Learning that this agitation may be
a product of our minds' guesswork-
a rally of thoughts that most certainly
are floating along a bypath...
of our fictitiously heated interaction
we provide no relevance with.
Only subtle gazes caught by our unwary
eyes, arm brushes which we tell ourselves
a habitual fluke of nature, and an obvious
coquetry we disguised as "suitableness".
We pretend. But the story behind
every shutter of our eyes is of no
comical sense, nor a paradox.
Neither it is a fairy tale which is told
through the world's most linear script.
It is one that lasts in transience but
leaves us, our hearts, free-falling.
Indeed, I am a jester who has a disturbing
sense of humor only to be transformed
into a royal entertainer by the twinkle in
your eyes~ the twinkle in your eyes.
I am a thunder that sends flashing bolts
of lightning to everything I touch but you,
too, a tempest with her gusts of wind
dancing together with me... as we turn
the world with our song~ our song.
We fit perfectly. The both of us.
