Without me, the moon will be rising for lovers snaking around each other. This warmth in sweat is life, and the thought of its shining use still hovers. I may sing like a crow but less cacophonous in a duet. Like your palm with lines crisscrossing like rivers, I want you to read me again, with some warm shivers. 11. Gold, do not go somewhere else before I die. I’ve seen so much of things crumbling and flowers on the ruins not blooming. I’m just a conch with sea-memories, and sigh that I am diseased with the melancholy of not having you in this earthly pursuit. Everywhere engulfed by a mad bruit, I miss your torture or your love more sadly. Some part of me remains empty and cold. I cannot write of the sun’s brightness out there, with coldness creeping into me. Desire that I once had has shut its wings. Just hold me still before I see the curtain drawn. Remind me of that greenness on the lawn. 12. I’m not out of folly’s cocoon yet. Swollen big with grief, rage and regrets, I didn’t know life would shower me with kind threats. I wanted light brimming over with dreams and I’ve to be glad you often pushed me off to writing things out like sapphires for posterity! I can’t say my tears will ever be diamonds. Go if you like while I stand guard on the world
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