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Kartik Prajapat

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I am envious of wind, it could flow easily. Be flew with anybody who blows it. I feel I am thirst stuck in my neck gulping each drop that tubes. But you, when I am writing to you poetry, lay down your flaps and ear what is there that I have to say to you. But before I speak to you anything let me blur my senses about dashing it down all at once in one breath. Or let the blood jerk with brute force in my nerves, revoking all my carcasses back to life with no rhyming. Or shout at the top of my lu

I am envious of wind, it could flow easily. Be flew with anybody who blows it. I feel I am thirst stuck in my neck gulping each drop that tubes. But you, when I am writing to you poetry, lay down your flaps and ear what is there that I have to say to you. But before I speak to you anything let me blur my senses about dashing it down all at once in one breath. Or let the blood jerk with brute force in my nerves, revoking all my carcasses back to life with no rhyming. Or shout at the top of my lu