In the thriving fire, we stood slacking each other's thirsts. He exclaimed when she wrote about his skipped heartbeat all lumpy lettered.
He jumped to his feet when she plucked a breath from his lives. from his lousy lungs. In awe , he looked at that shine from the corner of the moon.
the pieces of the broken roof , which he quietly broomed under his pillow. Now her tears have a shoulder. And his shoulder , a responsibility.In between these rushing words, the spaces between letters, she was captivated like a silenced alarm. He talks of his mother, rarely.
Once in a while he weeps , till the winter exhausts and coughs fog. Whenever he remembers faint pictures of love. And she cools his warm groans by just one touch of innocence cracked open in his palms like fresh rosebuds.
Today her fears died of a moody mania. She clentched him by the collars. And kissed with the softest strength , that was all she could gather while everything was falling.