I can’t draw you with words,
but the color of your eyes
can be aptly describes
with the hues of cornflower
and Persian blue.

The sketches of your laughter
cannot be drawn or seen,
but the drawers in my head
can be pulled out
and see, your smile repeats itself!

Time spent with you
will fly away in the wind
but by the lamplit flow of words
my minutes spent on you
will stick to these pages and dry into
constantly blooming memories.

So my dear,
      even when you’re far away
      bent over the nuances of a fishing hook,
      this little notebook will hold the scraps of time
      I’ve kept pressed inside
      preserving the moments like cats in formaldehyde.