An Art of Falling in Love
when i told you i am awake, it means i
go a step further to find meanings into
the night. my hands are aching for the
sun to shine atop the roof of my mind.
my mind has a roof: your tenderness.
you can not imagine yourself, oh you,
daughter of the moon of my vast sky,
walking alone in the jungle of furious
lion. i will rather be with you anywhere
you are than let someone claim all of
your kind-hearted personality. you aren’t to be possessed, but to be loved. i
can't change you with any other person
because you're uniquely made for me.
one day, if you don't have someone to
take you to the riverside of fruits and
vegetables, worry not. look for me or
call my name beside every pasturage.
i do take the form of greenish grasses.
so, call my appellation but do not fret:
you will see me coming towards you in
my handmade pullover, pair of shoes &
trousers. i am sometimes taking a nap
while looking forward to hearing your
melodious voicemail. it sounds like the
chant of a lovable bird in the remnant
of a warland. you see, i think of the day
our thoughts have sealed a deal to be
with each other, in times of happiness
and in times of unhappiness. love, the
language of the unsayable things we
say by our hearts when they recognize
themselves in the buttery garden of an
endless seduction. my tongue is now
collapsing in pieces. dear, rescue me.
or pray for me if you know i am gone.