Eyes all tell the beauty
Of beauteous being,
Your hand, Your fingers,
How they tell the silence,
How did they tell the truth
Of wanted roar of heart.

Can you not hear your tapping feet of yours,
Can you not hear your fingers tap,
They tapped each time
To provoke fondness
Inside each veins of your body.

Alas, every silent breaks with warm touch,
Touch of your eyes,
How can you miss the aroma of the heart,
You are the creation’s finest being,
Crafted with thousand blessed petals!

Listen, you can hear yourself,
Singing inside your head,
Lofty singer, fluttering every leaves,
I can see, see them, your fingers—
How did they sing the story of the creation.

At times, and tells,
‘somewhere between emotional and emotionless’
I felt you were the golden embryo of that evening.

[post script:]
And it's true, I realized
‘somewhere between emotional and emotionless’
It is true.
And I am done with ‘true’.