When you succumb to the fury of light and dismay of sounds,
Wreaking out of pain and losses,
Sobbing gently out of sleep-wakefulness,
Savoring the sea with your eyes that pops off.
Come let’s talk, let’s talk gently,
I wish to hear your voice so sweet,
You are so charming handsome and pink,
Why didn’t we meet earlier dear?
I want to pillion ride you in a beach hugging you tight as in a film song,
Or shall we go night walking dear,
I want to touch you like moonlight,
Kiss your eyes like morning light,
Make your mornings dazzling like a flower,
And make you, just you by my silence,
Foolish and thoughtless ass of you,
Am I your truth, dear, is not truth that makes you self,
What makes you lose, are you lost?
What am I doing, what? Don’t ask; don’t write poetry, it’s so boring.