battle scars and broken hearts
you… and I… write different stuff
at unpredictable intervals of time;
the experiment looks like
a temperamentalish naked poetry;
but in very deed, —
it's a sense of humor in 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 wish's degree pulverizing oneness
to affect today, our atoms' thrill;
it's a hug and kiss, sent and caught,
(nervelessly), (for love shrills us both);
