Still Appease Poem by Ayan Dasgupta

Still Appease



Let us not
When the moon's high
And flesh calls to justify
The thought.

It's nothingness,
Whiff – summer breeze;
A passing phase...
Still appease?

This fleeting touch,
Tell me why –
Leaves in lurch,
Let it die

And with the thought
Let us not.

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