Monday, November 9, 2015

Lost in you

Every rhyming syllable sounds
Like it belongs to your name.
My mind, fuzzy with your thoughts,
Constructs, rather concocts
Make-belief realities
As to why I hear your name
Amidst the clamor of thousand voices.
Heart, well, it fares a little better,
Confessing to the crime
Of having fallen for you.
Head on.


Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.