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);