An all-seeing eye of cosmos opened within me having an epistemic sense of power. The rain trickled down the oval-shaped
wet window. 'Twasn't a blue eye, yet 'twas bluing.
The blues of the stars were trickling out of their core. Over your tasting part of the tongue full of sensations about itself, suffering words struck the silence between us. I could not comprehend their sense- their meaning
sank in the sadness of the rain.
The blues were absorbed by this rising dreariness. I couldn't see you. Nor could I achieve the tranquility of mind. However, I might presume that God might see this.