I’m sitting in front of you,

My eyes are caked with crystals,

Of sugar,

You poured from your lips,

You smell,

Of freshly cut ginger mixed with orange peel,

From this distance,

A few inch away,

My senses have never been,

Lulled and happy,

Questions of existence,

Have burst like soap bubbles,

My actions have been stripped off their pretentions,

My voice has lost it’s nervous flutter,

All because of you,

Sitting in front of me,

In some obscure time and palce,

Veiled by the memory of self,

Cocooned away,

From their plasticine gadgets,

You keep on staring at me,

From behind those dark eyes,

Which sometimes become,

The color of full moon,

Freshly out of god’s pizzeria,

I know the words won’t fail me,

The awkwardness won’t impale me,

You hand me your hand,

Like offering a cashmere scarf,

As though I could wear you,

Over my skin,

What me, becoming you?

Turing my accumulations,

Things that I’ve called mine,

To you?

Like sharing my password,

To get yours,

You taste my hesitation,

And tease me,

You know what I’ll do,

You always know..

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