Lacing your moon with something of mine
In search of flashes...
I remember,
your scarf, red as i recollect....
Oh my, it had small stitch bumps,
now i remember.
The day was a literal sunshine,
i long and long for even more of those meets.
We listened to Damru..
We sat and read what all We've been writting..
A critic of a kind you are...
a nihilist of other sorts too.
yet, that is true it seems...
Your eyes were dialating as the moonrise on the 7th of May.
You remember May, don't you?
That's the day i had my hands inside you.
That's the day i felt what you are in flesh and not in mind.
And in that process
i found what you thought about, even things you are yet to know.
Inside you.., while we looked at each other.., without breaths..,with ecstacy
And inside, my hands searched for a pen to write all of this and a cigarette to smoke.