I sit by the window
In absent mindedness
Speaker of the so-called
grey crested emotions.
No more wine?
No more dead birds?
as happy as the outer space
as poor as my manhood.

I sit by the window
and
I touch you in the night
Like the hero of your dream
Prosecuted and paralyzed
by the hallowed love
I touch you cold,
tell me,
how close is this to a lipless grin? .

- Samar Charulingah Godfrey