Thoughts of her often
Fall prey to the tigress
Dimensions apart
And still I slip lucidly back to her world
The one we created
Such random conception, precise of design
The product of a ballerina
And a poet
Silent composers of thunderstorm songs
Brewing within a melodic monsoon
Seldom shared
By two antithetical empaths converging
One of the swan
The other, of eagle
But all their attempts to hatch plans
Proven feeble