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.