You make me grow, develop and batter in ties of giving and warmth
Shaking the very essence out of my life - it's you who furrow my patience
With your gift of one-sided, childlike innocence
I berate you, scathing myself in return, but you endure - why?
Do you leave to love more, or is it some negligent impulse in you that says,
'I am yours'?
You elude like a mirage, a sand sea of storms and capsize
The booty is yours to take, the spoils of a war fought with the nudity of truth
That it is your weapon of nothing but the solemn spasms - of a delight, a wisdom
I may not understand your whims always, but it makes me - complete
That is perhaps savage-like in its urgency
Waiting for a communique with the eternal
That which never ends
