The almost-perfect sphere of the ivory moon shimmers from behind
The pinnately-compound silhouettes of tamarind leaves.
The summer breeze dries the beads of perspiration on my neck and brow,
While I stare on blankly at the words on the pages before me…
Thinking silently of you…and you…and sometimes “we”.
Thinking of the sole day I’d seen in the crowd,
Thinking of the way you left a hidden mark on my thoughts,
A mark that I just can’t erase off.

It’s a different feeling now…a feeling that grew without my care…
A feeling that had fixed its roots in my heart without me being aware.
But now…it is so soft and sweet a thing…so subtle, so delicate…so beautiful.
And so silent…

A shiny gold beetle alights on my wrist…
A stray strand of hair brushes my lips…
A gush of wind ruffles up the pages of the book…
I feel a novel longing stir up in me like the
Intoxicating perfume of some wild half-blown bloom…

My frenzied mind seems so blank…empty!
The intricate whispers of the eve tell me its now…tells me its time to welcome ‘it’.
But…I just can’t.
So I pour over those formulae…trying to understand so much…
Trying to push you off the place you’ve forced in my heart…
Trying to just read…and not get lost…