Much I wished She didn’t come home
Reflections of her, float like roll film
Her image grazes my hand
Larks around my kitchen oven
In my bed, she sits
And, I across, of course, adore
Oh March, marching towards me Hear the birds tell her, I adore her
Swoon of my life, I athirst Reeling my soul
I want her and I, the best of beautiful things
I say I don’t want it
Take me afar It comes anyway
Eerily, quietly Oh March, marching towards me
Hear the birds tell her, I
adore her
Hear the birds tell her, I am
valiant
I need her voice, lull
My conundrums I need her eyes, halt
Me thinking
That soul, there, is beautiful
Tell her please,
I told myself over and over
again
I love you, I love you, I love you.
‘Anytime is fine, really’
You know I’m dying to hear you.
/Sehrish.S Syed/
