Your eyes peep into chapters of my
opuscule with incessant questioning.
I enjoy the interrogation. Someone
is interested, I tell myself. Evading
the uncomfortable fits into form for
inveterate personages. It hasn’t been
a noisy commute. I choose quiet corners...
At the end here’s subtractive serendipity, the morning stars dissolve like fading perfume
splashes in your yawn, down the icicle of your atma. What makes our togetherness
monochromatic of antiquity? Come let’s smell the frankincense of this pregna...