You smell of poetry again.
The world has grinded to...
i am, but soft in your hands,
and your hands only...
She put on a mask
realizing her old self...
you’ve missed the tender years –
i needed you most then. i daydream all the...
you are laden with light –
lambent like morning skies...
an unsolved puzzle –
the words escape me...
the hands quiver when it comes to
penning you a garland of poems...
<<One should know of the illustrated book: "The...
They sounded so ostentatiously strong...
i wanted to be a snail
to hide comfortably in my shell...
Isn’t it strange
how time can twist and change...
soften your gaze, i beg you; i know why you’re
here with fists still trembling, and your heart...
i am but first –
a soft yearning for something warmer...