Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Thursday, July 14, 2016

A crazy fall

A crazy craving,
without any rhyme or reason,
so I read and re-read your texts,
to hear your voice in my head.
Psychologists say this happens
when you get really close to someone.
So perhaps this is it.
My forever fall.
But I am really not sure
if this can be classified as love.
For the time being,
this ephemeral joy of skidding
in luring pools of your baritone
enthralls me.
Besotted, I trip,
each time I hear you speak.
Beguiled,
I don't want to rise.
May be this slow sinking is
the spirit of life, the craze of living.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: craze

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