Amative

62 11 16
                                        

amative: strongly moved by love;  amorous sense
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is it just me?
who reads emotions under
those letters
tell me am i the only one
who digs meaning in
meaningless casual flows
we laugh and flirt, fool
around the topics of world
at ungodly hours of the day
is it real?
theories of water lilies
or tragic romances
this made me an artist,
creativity aroused from
subtleties
my words drank by your love
obsessive enough to reach
for your initials──
everywhere
crushed gently in minute
poisoned anticipation
intricated with game of
manipulation
ticking replies ahead
i'm spilling sad truth'
existence of you sowed
in my being; i bet, yet mine
didn't even whispered your
footsteps
it is a foreword which dies
at your skillful dawn
forever twinkles in stars
vanishing just quickly
by an unrequited echo.

⚞ ᪣᪣⚟

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