క్రీనీడ

Voids

జూన్ 2015

Dried conversations in faded memories.
Gazing at the skies, I doze away on a sultry dusk

A faint odor of you.
A feeble voice.
A hazed view from a moist eye.

Our spirits flow into each other, like the breeze on both sides.

Sliced by a wired mesh, separated and distanced.
Each for the other.

We.
On either sides.