August 9, 2024

Kumarshambhavam

Himal Khadka Beads of sweat merged trickle down all the way from her temple to her cheek besides her full lips that out-red the rose

Three Poem by Grzegorz Wróblewski

Grzegorz Wróblewski 1. MY FLY She lived with me for several weeks. She danced around the lamp. Often with each other we talked. The topics

Who and what I Am

Netralal Pandey Excuse me— It’s ‘I,’ but not a spy, A mysterious guy, As you think. Not so high, Not so low, Where I lie.