Not in the turbulence of contained fire

Rapacious to rake a green forest

Smoldering in my heart

Or on a mountain of solitude

 

Not in the quaint desire,

To hold multiple moons in my palms

Forcing oceans to drape me with waves

Or in the fear of being a dead worm

Caught in the beak of a wild bird

 

But know, I sought you in inconsequential matter

Like breathing every moment

Urge of thirst for water

Need of sleep when the night fell

Or turning around

When your name was called

 

See, it was a wind that brushed aside

Layers of soil within me

Exposing a buried, dormant seed,

Feigning dead, breathing clandestinely

An existence within my existence

Mine but not mine.

That’s when I started watering you.

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