10. Life with a Stranger

There is a love laid in a memory lane,
the lover abstruse, the love somewhere,
that thing of the lips, ready to kiss,
isn’t it a strange thing? life with a stranger.

Those strands of strangeness were drowning in the moment that was vanishing,
beneath those shoulders that you were pressing underneath that skin,
blurring all the silhouette in between;
mirage of my love hath not hitherto broken.

Those eyes are crystalline eyes, like a dream,
that found my heart, broken and grim,
and only if I could tell you that I’m still battling,
for we are young and still strangers,
in that love that was never known,
your hands around me, your fingers yearned,
strangeness started to feel home and then we grew.
Isn’t it a strange thing? life with a stranger.