I'm certain you're talking
in your sleep again,
Calling out her name
like no one's listening
from afar
While here I am wishing
not to cry myself to sleep,
not to be smothered
by pain
Maybe I'll just bury
these feelings
under supernova galaxies
of a dead star
In cycles of faux and flux,
In everywhere I turn
to escape love's deluxe,
In seasons of blood
and flood;
Because synchronicities
won't stop without
making me look mad
Your fair countenance
always vitalizes
and ventilates,
Feeding my subconscious
with harbingers of fates,
Forcing me to decipher
you in numerals
And inscribe you
in alphabeticals
Like it's too late
to overlook
the sidetracks
I once took
Where loving you
is a setback
that I still want to carry
on my careworn back
Are we a farewell
to forbiddance
or the other way round?
Are we the effervescence
of twin flames
in countercurrent
that are both lost and found?
Surely you're now visiting her
in your most feral dreams,
eloping with her redolence
everytime the crescent beams
While here I am dreaming
that we're sinking in sync,
plummeted down to the ravines
of neglected nihility
There, you depart from my eyeshot
Without leaving a vestige of you
nor your concrete causality