Author A. K. Ramanujan Kuruntokai 399 Like moss on water in the town's water tank: the body's pallor clears as my lover touches and touches, and spreads again, as he lets go, as he lets go. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 5 (1 vote) Rate Log in or register to post comments