I lost interest in words
I lost it suddenly when
A thousand syllables
You accidentally spilled
Felt like a midnight forest
Loud and confusing
A little dangerous
And much unintended
Yet the intension spoke
Loud and clear
When the words
Selected to be spoken
Bid a bitter farewell

.
I have always known you
Stranger,
In this whirling tavern,
Where life is plasmic.

You speak with sweetest
Nothings,
In my groping, deaf ears,
Where sense is non.

And now we are laying
Hollow,
On this letted, fresh bed,
Without any clues.

Your are plain, beautiful
Stranger,
Your hands ply my soul,
As bees on dry flower.

I wish I could see you in this moonlight night
Beside the lake and evergreen tea garden.
I would hold your hand to tell my unexpressed story.
I wish, I could see you with a blue saree
Like these fresh leaves as my blue angel
As I dreamt and captured in my heart.
I could fly with you in the Boccus chariot
And masmarise with the immortal tone of nightingale.