Tuesday, March 18, 2014


Once I wrote you a love poem - 
a little dark, a little damp, 
a little hairy. 

It was night. 

As the darkness grew, 
it merged with the rain 
and the bark and the leaves 
and slowly became still, silent. 

In the morning, there was only you, 
a monsoon sky, 
and a tree without leaves.

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