I don't know who we are, but I know for a fact,
that we have all dreamed of sitting by the sea,
with feet lost somewhere to the sand,
and sights bouncing off the moon.
I don't know who we are, but I know for a fact,
that we all have had a love which smells like fragrant cardamom,
when kept close, and makes us cough and suffocate the same.
that on some nights, the insides of our heads look like crumpled cans,
and the inner walls of a large bell, with bruises which can't be seen.
that today evening when the wind went hustling past your ear,
it reminded you of someone who forgot inhaling,
once and for all.
that sometimes you throw yourselves at people, like a ball of fur,
forgetting that thorns exist.
that sometimes we know what we seek,
but somehow, on the way, we forget who we are.