Indescribably in a rectangular path I measure height and you, width. Diagonally we traverse crossing each other Longing for a square. Wishing... (Alas, if we had been a bit alike) Three points - You, me and us. We try converging into each other. Frantically you unto me, me onto you. and the last remains, untouched. (Lust is it that never touches 'us' (love?)) I always took geometry as philosophy. The smallest unit, a point, is dimensionless- a dot. Like my white wish painted against your black refusals. Black and white - they crisscross. Coexist invisibly. (What remains is an orange dot of defying Sun) In this gibberish, which are too minute to understand Or cynically un-reasoned , I talk of future, you talk of facts. We sum up- failure. But of whom? I ask, you ask - to each other. Despite knowing the 'Earth is round' We could never love circles. SoUmY@ [Pardon my french]
Some Memories are hard to hold on So I put them on words.