[ultimate_heading main_heading=”Poem by Omer Zamir – Issue.XXXII : September 2017 ” main_heading_color=”#1e73be” sub_heading_color=”#8224e3″ spacer=”line_with_icon” spacer_position=”bottom” line_style=”dotted” line_height=”1″ line_color=”#1e73be” icon_type=”custom” icon_img=”id^48|url^http://ashvamegh.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Ashvamegh-ICO.jpg|caption^null|alt^Ashvamegh Journal Icon|title^Ashvamegh ICO|description^null” img_width=”48″ main_heading_style=”font-weight:bold;” main_heading_font_size=”desktop:34px;” line_width=”3″ margin_design_tab_text=””]experimental…[/ultimate_heading]
Omer Zamir is a twenty-three-year-old poet from Israel who has been writing for the past four years. He has a passion for edgy and free spirited poets, such as Dylan Thomas, Walt Whitman, Sylvia Plath and Yona Wallach.
Stranger
Your knuckle between my shoulder blades
The body’s memory spliced to the hours
Your tongue slid up slid down
Slid right slid left
Swirled till nothing was left—
Snap! Goes your belt
Pouring another emptying it straight
Crunch of grapes
Bloom of desire
Drain
Sh.
