spending time in sorrow in evenings
enveloped in the air of betrayals
uncontent days and remained uncontent nights
created I a world of dreams but
nor did we stay in nor out of it
why my goodness in snatched from me
tell the sun to stay in its limits
arrested in whose thoughts day and night I am
would die to have to be with me
everytime something is missing for me
all meetings remain unsatisfied somehow for me--
as she tried to put drops of water into the open mouth of the wounded bird he came in
No comments:
Post a Comment