19 July, 2011


Sitting on a sticky bench
in sticky clothes
with sticky memories,

we coo and coddle and
scold each other’s emotions
sticking to the air and bench and clothes.

Sitting in a stormy house
with stormy tears
and stormy shouts,

we break each other’s
will by overexposing
the very sinews of our friendship.

Sitting in a grassy field
with grassy thoughts
in grassy dreams,

we manage to feel and hug and kiss
all our potential shared
by fading in and out of youthful light.

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