Her patience is cooked up to caramel color. Her gait is lightsome as firefly of May.
Please love me from where speechless. I would give you my nihility syndrome. I found it out yesterday morning when I gave up sensory pleasures.
For that moment, my entire body was intermingled with mighty winds.
For that glimpse, my entire life was wrapped in that wind back and forth.
For that season, my entire soul was all in one with the universe.
My lover lit up a candle to get me through season of curse.
We broke up where all bright and grand.
YOU ARE READING
The monsoon literature
PoetryOur self is always so distant a leap from the surroundings. Literature is the medium of the minority to revolt, to state existence.
