For the years my blood Has caroused Through these pens for you For the one hundred poems Through which my words Have called out to you. For the dreams you invade And the days you color And my being That you so pervade. For all that is soft in me And all that is white. For what I remember And for what I wish to forget For the last time we spoke And for all these years Of satin stained silent nights For the stars that still shine And for the ones falling Yet burning bright You have me And my dry Eyes. Also Published in Muse India
Together, under a clear blue sky