love came in many disguises sometimes a name, sometimes a grace, taking the mute pages out on a walk absorbing the sun's rays in a hope that some golden drop may filter into my poetry. but the words only vibrate when you're near to feel their dance --they care not for any other applause. they seek only to reflect this phase of our meetings silently held under the mango tree. of my hand attempting to leave its mark upon your palm its gentle heat melting my core and yours creating some new alloy.