nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----

my body, the heap of sand
becomes the shore, the soul,
when your finger tips of tides
creep on my spine
the fragrance of anesthesia crawls like crab
the aesthetic flame circles like sea-gull
on the shore
the dawn and dusk compete to copulate
with their own fate
gifted are the shells
the sweet memories of the garland
the secrets of our love
that simple open secret of happiness

nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----