The Study of Him
He, who refuse to talk about the rain, the pain, the villain, avoiding every indirect release of feelings in return for peace instead of healing. As he traced my veins, taking the route where my thumb left all it is caresses behind, it led to him and everyone but me. While i am caught those nights and those days dreaming flight, when all i cared for was him, when all i craved for was him, and i dream of the kisses i could not have, touching the hallucination of his presence. My reverie does not do justice, to his eyes under a blithe twilight, my hands run through the air silhouette, collecting wishes of him in my palms. - Aini