Once, I hit upon Love in my way.
She asked...

One winter morning
back from a stroll...

Visions of your straightened hair
draping the shoulders...

His unshaved beard still looked the same.
Dingy room of the hospital...

He was pestering me for days, "I want to see...
I exclaimed, "why, you're one!&quot...

She revolted, "boring life, this!
Same old spring will be bringing...

Varied dreams
expressions and colors...

[ I wrote this piece earlier as "Isolated...
Seconds return...

Rebellious flames
caged inside an inglenook...

Gloom descends
as an assorted cluster of gray...

Lights just went off,
making the room...

Not every morning
witnesses...