Poetry

Can you get the seizing
without an encounter,
like rapture of the deep?

It was me who was lost
in one sultry night,
when jasmine bloomed.

In night blindness, the
trembling soul, landed
on the blue lakes.

You would not look
at me, without alphabets―
in siege.

In contrast we meet―
to hurt each other.
Falling in love after smouldering.

The soot will chase us till the end.