battle scars and broken hearts

you and I are writing different stuff

at unpredictable intervals of time;

the experiment looks like

a temperamentalish naked poetry;

on the other hand, in very deed, hunts

a humor's sense that dissects our mood;

it's life's pulse we trapped

in its battle scars and broken hearts;

it's our dark sky of winter's leisurely,

crystallized by drones' foam;

it's a wish degree pulverizing oneness,

to affect today our atoms' thrill;

it's a hug and kiss, sent and caught,

(nervelessly), (for love shrills us both);