Baby I saw your
Moonshine eyes leave my side
Several times.
And when you reached out,
As if to say I'm sorry,
It began again.

You hurt the most -
Even Mysticism underlay
Every wishful brush of the shoulder,
Taste of your scent.
I became your muse.

I went through a thousand
Beautiful scenarios —
Of skin on skin,
Subcutaneous conversations:
Salts mixing,
Hyperplasia of hearts,
The rhythmic chant of breath —
In my dreams.