Time is not relevant when I am with you.
a morning’s rush…
Had taken both my shoes.
Unusual or not…
I tread so lightly on the air.
Barefoot or not…
I hold tightly to the image of your cares.
And, the day…
Never set anew without my recollections of you.
So, often, I speak to the dawn.
‘What is it I should do?’
How do I navigate the perceptions of you.
it is like asking the night’s rain of the mornings dew.