Synced...

'tell me...
dear...
i think
we think
the way the same...
i think like Him
and you like Her...

and
methinks
He and She
there ...
they are Synced...
they mirror...
each other...
so...
we are synced
too!
are we not?'

he asked her one
afternoon
when the noon day tide
had mellowed a bit...
and across the street
the pineapple tree
had lovely smell flavoury...
as if spring had become
a pineapple tree...

she
nodded...
syncing...
sinking...
and letting him sink too
more...

'are we gadgets?'
she finally asked...
joking...
knowing him
and his gadgety ideas...

he smiled...
'from one angle...
yes...
like that to some extent...
why not?
we got snapshot feature...
so we keep slides coded and intact...
we save space
to allow Space more...
we like synced exchange
automatic...
from cloud
we gather our required static...
we encrypt to save glare...
we decode to unfurl hair
into the storm called Love...
we both believe in source code...
we both float like country boat...
singing songs of life...
amidst hurricane, and unavoidable strife...
we are synced...
and we thus sink...
still we live it more...
are we not?'

he justified...
his idea...
gadgetoholic things...

'why so gadgety?
you?
how come you
align it with spiritual existence?'
she asked...
she got queries so many...
(like a nanny...caring... loving...concerned...)
he smiled...

'well...
people are Gods...
those people who thought syncing...
mirroring...
they thought God...
for He is the greatest synchroniser
of our time bound theatre
of small stage...

He is synced...
with you and I
with She...
are not we?'

he replied...
looking at her
face...
that carried pinkish trace...
over cheeks...

she smiled...
she thought
she heard a tune of a song...
a song without words...
a song never sung...
but she thought she that heard...

'that is a be...
synced...
we are...
are we not?'
he asked...
not asked
actually replied...

she nodded...
synced...

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