It takes time to decipher
the quizzical geometry of her mind;
places that remain
unbuttoned in solitude.
On a good day,
you’d find a face.
Fragrances travel
their stipulated distance to land on her,
bringing a tinge of conifer green.
She is most beautiful in silence.
Then you hear the symphony of her sorrows;
see the camouflaging colors of her smile;
the felicity with which
little joy-shaped tears escapes the corner of her eye.
You’ve heard fables of kisses picket-fenced on her lips .
Rumours are rife about the language of her body.
Suddenly she folds like a paper, flies like the sky.
Destiny is promiscuous.
Illusion is her body double.
You're chasing life.
While I sleep,
In Her Shadow.
Wonderful! enjoyed reading this poem:))
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