'Silence...
Is it heartless?
Ain't no heartless...
Am i?'
he once asked his sleepy tired eyes...
And they said
Looking at their mirror...
Eyes bluish of her...
'nah...
You ain't heartless...
For in your eyes
my eyes reflect...
The dawn...
The day...
The noon...
The twilight...
The evening
And...
The enormous night...
They all appear...straight...'
Those blue eyes of hers
Conversed...
Silent
But conversed still...
Only for his eyes to get to proper
Yet improper feel...
And he dozed...
Not morose...
But happy happy a rise...
In him He he found then
Embracing a Demise...
And
Heartless of his body
Became the croaking frog
Pleading for her
To come down on him from far
As if by coming down
A thunder
His timber would wake...
As if from his sleep only an earthquake
Could cause a rise...
But
Did he not by Him
Court a death?
A demise?
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