Woman,you carving simple yet a known stranger
on soil,faithfully laid on
the womb,waiting to be true,
of whom you have never been insouciance.
Why you being in bliss about him my lady,
to let him live in heaps of misery,
in branches of silicon,
where humanity develops to sand-size ??
Why you longing for him,
to be the coin roling helplessly,
over the steak of rebarbative routine,
dreading in each moment ??
Why you dreaming about him,
to push him over the
waves of the black water,
gloomy like the black sky,
and the darkness after it ??
And why telling your insight,
the universe beholding his instincts
are free of thirst,dirt and dust ??
My young lady,you ever thought of
the reluctant nonpareil gods of
wonders sighing over the land-hostages?
you must know that’s sober,limpid,
and the feel of a guilt in
conjuring this world,its all about that.!1
Oh my child,let you not be
true,not ever espy,
rosary beads be blind,
falling stars be dumb,
11:11 be bluff,
and you be false until the
world ends, at least…