If I have the desire...
To collect little drops of sweat
Which glitter mixed with rain
On your open bare shoulders
On my fingertips ...
As I do collect your stares
Unmindful of my eyes...
And the smell of your shampooed hair
Ignorant of my quest...
Will you call me a fool?
Will you term me a man lustful?
If so...then I have no issues
With those epithets...
For in you I have another of me met
A fool...a lovesick...a poet...a sage...
I have found me in different stages
Of my own development...
In you light of the whole world of mine if without any Eiensteinian work bend...
What am I to do?
Can I betray laws of science?
Can I betray my conscience?
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