Just the two of us on a paper boat somewhere…
Counting the ripples, tracing the stars.
Grazing alongside the lines we drew, and pictures we painted,
We create spaces for each and pour in the distance.
There lies a reality,
The zenith where the mist clears up…
When the stars will stop twinkling,
And we will fill coffee in the morning cup.
“The momentary lapse of reason”…
The subtle flow of sunshine in veins,
The fresh smell of wet little footsteps,
The melodies that left deeper stains….
Streetlights vaguely attempt,
Pretence of daylight, patchworks on the scary depths of darkness…
Late monsoons wash away the heartbreaks,
Blanks are left, all but a subfusc firefly…
Still somewhere an obscure lullaby is heard,
Where flowers don’t fade and smiles don’t dry…
Where a paper boat floats windless, unwavering
And the whispers are secrets the mist forgets to try…


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