There is a fork in the road
where I veered left to merge onto
I-65,
and I spotted the same
bilboard I look up at
every day on my commute to work,
but now it was at eye level,
and I thought to myself,
*well, I guess that's what we call
perspective.

She is a perfectly ripe orange, juicy inside,
he peels the skin her mind, thickly wraps around,
with the alchemy of his words, see! how well
she reveals, her true essence for him to consume,
one segment after another, he wants to experience
her leisurely; it's her turn now,for her he is a peach
she impatiently waited thus far, to put her hands on,
he is patient, at her disposal, till they fully merge

The gushing river through his interior landscape, runs very deep,
this surging Ganga, glaciers feed, is one of Himalayan profligacy.
Wouldn't stop, or deter a bit,on any eventuality; a mighty force it is.
his beloved sea, was moved by this, swelled up to meet midway, merge.

If I were you,
I would love myself,
To no end.

If I were you,
I would forever,
Hold on to my hand.

I would love all of myself,
The old as well as the new,

I would merge with myself
Only if I were you.





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