Poetry

It was not easy to recall, 
the love in truancy. Needs 
extra gene. I would wake up in blue 
darkness for an aubade. 
The salt glitters when I 
shut the mind. 
 
In random wreckage, 
the first glow before dawn, 
sets you on fire. A star gazing 
begins, buried in the flesh, only 
the eyes protruding, incapable 
to locate the moon. 
 
A blank paper floats. You 
were surfing on words. Not 
yet to meet the inevitable. Not 
the kiss of hurt. I am coming 
to unfurl the opus, the 
noble commitment of navel crossing.