a conversation.

I don't know how it happened,
I just found myself longing for your hugs and kisses,
Missing our late night conversation,
Dealing with my unanswered questions.

I want to ask you,
But is it the right thing?
Or you'll leave me hanging,
Or you'll tell me lies?

Can you tell me?
Can you answer me?
Can you help me?
Can you just be mine?

-try it. it can be reversed poetry.

Time can never stay
The ticking of the clock
Takes timely stock
Of the days that roll to years
And of what occurs
And of what stays or disappears.
Twixt the angle of paradigm
That sweeps through ticking time.
When old friends meet
Time is the healing retreat.
Slipping into different zones,
Completely oblivious of cell-phones!
And the time that is the present-now
Seems too short; somehow
For a grander celebration -
And a fuller exchange of conversation.
But grateful, still for the exchanges between
The now and when we were fifteen.

How many times a day do you pray?

As many as needed.
Some days only once.
But it might take all day.