onus of science, or dream, to all explain;
the inexplicable remains dismissed:
being here or there: exactly arranged
and no one yearns to know of nothingness
between the emptiness of meanings each
with labeled names, boxes tightly-packed--
towers darkly lined, well beyond the reach
of but a few, lost, scattered minds...
xe shouted through hir lungs a greener hue
that we could live beyond the concrete grey
die in love despite our evil ignorance,
our rainbow cutouts crying for the sun
  --posthumous teleologies begun
  in kinder dreamers, earthly songs enhanced.

To her he was love personified, sweet lover
but if you think there ends his troubles of amour
you need to read this narrative to the end.
He would make her bathe in cranberry juice
and feed her the juiciest of peaches and plums
from morning till night, if strawberries and
luscious mangoes become too much for her.
She made him read poetry aloud till their
hearts break in sweet pain,Sappho's poems made
his eyes moist, but she cries aloud, often inconsolable.

At one point fed up being his lap dog
she attacked him tooth and nail, still her love intact,
showering kisses all over his naked chest down.
He laughed taking credit to be the cause
of her true enlightenment,letting her to be herself.

Night was spreading her venom in their veins
and it started to show it's effects as animal instincts
the tigress in her woke up, stretching to full length,
stared at his flesh, hairy broad chest, athletic legs, and groin
then after the play thoroughly exhausted and drained
she rolled to the other end of the bed, the monster
named angst keeping awake in the darkest corner
taking in all  with fluorescent eyes, sprung up on him
bit, scratched, mauled and wounded, as much as it wanted,
he was dazed, didn't scream, fought bitter tears like always.

So frail she is, aged too,
but what I see every time
is a frozen leaf resisting
falling snow and whistling gale.

The grace she exudes grips
every time she passes me
in the morning or evening
her smile electrifies me without fail

In my bones it echoes, I felt
each smile brings instant delight,
I feel like it spreads in to my being
unlike the hollow smiles thrown at you.

What remains after one is gone
is to be felt much later by others
but to make the hollow deeply felt
in absence, their gifts in mind should persist.

what makes that huge difference,
now I grasp, her heart that has seen
many seasons, of human predicaments
and beaten in resonance.instantaneously
strikes a chord, with all, it's music to ears.

And it's a moment none would easily forget
she reflects the timeless grace humans acquire
through a life lived fully in mindfulness
I am embraced by grace, when her smile is gifted.

What remains when she has gone
is a serene sense of fulfillment, for having met
a luminous being, who without even a word
or touch, could make others feel nice and be better.