A Conversation.
You are crying!
He is lying …
He is asleep?
Yes, quite deep.
Why do you weep?
Did you fight?
Yes, all night.
Is he asleep?
Dream deep.
Why don’t you sleep?
Will he stay?
I can’t say …
Duty calls?
And fear brawls.
Ah, Love sees that Pride crawls!
You are sad?
Wants I had …
Does he care?
Yes, love’s share.
Look around! He isn’t there!
You still cry?!
I can’t lie.
Sleeps, doesn’t he?
Sound and warmly.
Fool, fool you be!
26th January.
Midnight passed in fight. It’s night. Morn, some say.
The room’s tube bright, Lata fills the back ground.
You sleep: for mother waits at break of day!
(Here I wait for you to make any sound.)
I am dark and you seem to be light.
Each consumes the other – no middle ground.
Do we wait for chaos? The Last Day Fight?
For Nature to let us loose? Hold us bound?
I write. Lata sings. You sleep – or do you?
I don’t move to check. Each seized already
In wicked persona struggles – flu, too.
Emotions are far from being steady.
You grunt, I sing. I dance, you look away.
Love has come. So how do we make it stay?
26th January.
5:00 a.m.
I heard something – probably my heart again.
For a thing that is busy all the time
Fostering emotions and fighting pain
It sure has the time to think about mine.
I hear it all the time – like its beating,
I feel that all the time. So I wait,
Place my hand over it and think of cheating
By saying, “Not faith, I tell you, it’s fate!”
No, it can’t be hoodwinked. It doesn’t slow.
And I sigh. It is faith. I know it . . . do I?
My mind smiles – just to show
That nothing is mine – not even that sigh.
My heart beats faster. I remove my hand.
I look at the carnations – red.
They are all around me. One fact I understand.
After a matter of hours they will be dead.
Their fate?
My heart slows.
“And yours,” says my mind,
“It knows.”
Hearts Still Care 
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