A screen to keep off the world.
All else is superfluous but you.
All else is redundant but you.
All else is a fleeting dream.
You are reality: stark and true.
My fingers cold and lonely,
Glide over paper aimlessly.
They search for you in my words
They grope for you in the dark
They long to feel
They long to touch
Your warm hands in the dusk.
To me through the neem trees
Floats a timeless, nameless breeze;
Whispers and sighs in my ears,
The quiet complaints, the latent fears,
Echoes my wish to have you near.
Smoothes out the wrinkles of the years.
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