Before I could utter into your tender eyes,
A few words of wisdom bespoken in lieu of gratitude,
You hurried away with abrupt impulse of palpitations,
And as I was lost in the abyss of thy mind,
Enclosed me in a periphery of brightness,
A crystal filled my heart with joy and rain-sodden,
I fell onto and into a heart full of joy.
It was in December though,
But the skies refused to dull away,
Damped in perspiration water bodies as they swayed,
My heart bubbled with every drop of mirthful rain,
For the two seconds I glanced at you,
You looked away so as to avoid an uncoiled view,
But it was pretty straightforward that I had,
Unremittingly conquered a heart full of love.
Memories of two thousand and six I still wear,
Up my sleeve and suddenly as the rain once again,
Trickles down corroding my veins,
Benumbed I stare out of the window,
Into the clouds that perspire once more.
I see vast adulation for a poet in the making,
And I call it nature's spirit in the forbearing,
Dried, wetted and now soapy,
As the smile dries away slowly into a lather they call,
Temporal; but not my love.
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