Photo Courtesy: design.tutsplus.com
I feel so lost in you
that you stay wired in my lips
and my chair stays firm,
even though my shoulders refuse the dawn.
It’s that proof of existence which makes me a poet.
The device vibrates
and you meet the romancer in hours; I live.
Later, you meet me in stanzas.
You read me; I stay.
Is it hard for you to decide who you need more?
Will you betray me and win my heart?