I look at my glass screen to view her,
And I find her presence on the talking side,
And she perhaps is present here for a long time,
I am happy to see her and
Make my greetings,
Response is first to reply, “Hi!”
And I find she puts a short poem on her wall
And I think it is an opening way to talk with her
And I want to make lines in the thread on the frame
To make a picture of my desire and put my feelings there,
And I write on the comment box:
“I want you to be mine
I want you to be present
Between love and sense
I want to invade all that you have
At every open path and rhythmic singing
Moment by moment in mingled pleasure and imprints..
When my heart sinks into heating flow of your feeling.
Immediately after, she writes there,
“Oh! No, my poem is not for you,
My poem is for someone, living far away,
He is not in my direct contact,
Who is angry with me and does not talk with me,
I write my feeling to express my love to him.”
I feel strangeness in her mind,
Previously I was on the lines of thread many times,
She did not shrink her heart on my thin lines,
And she was free to put her words and lines
To complete the tread of love and
I have found laughter in her words like that of eyes.
Today I feel glass screen is perfect in raptures for moving images,
It is not that that has to be happened in normal way of living.