Coupling

What you call a black paper,
Is the one that awaits a white chalk,
I hold.
The thread between us is
like those small red crabs on
sea sands -
Quick feet, unsure,
still beautiful.

The scent in you is perpetual.
I peel the skin at nights.
Yours are like snakes' in winters.
They glow when I dip myself, into.

Somedays I burn.
I am like phosphorus(P).
And porous(:).
I try and contain you,
the whole of you in me.
You slid through as grains.
Helplessly, I emit at night.
There is no fire, you say.

I am incandescent.

I cry.
In happy and sad times,
my eyes fill up with saline water
that reflects moon, sharply.
You say, its childish,
We are role-reversed.
A man shouldn't cry that much.

Then, monthly expenditure of salt is mathed.
We agree that,
I will never write on a wet paper.

And,
I break my promises,
far too often.

SoUmY@