I get drawn to you.. a bit mindless and in a slight conscious spree, like a breathing firefly, a pulling magnet, a disobedient bumble bee. More of a suffering fever, a venomous serpent, a fast jungle fire, it spreads over me from head to toe and eyes to mind, mind to heart in an outlandish jiffy. Everything stays; an abeyance; a stalled journey. No differentiation of wrong from right, O yes, you are certainly not a fairy with wings exquisite, Nor do you get those dimples when you smile blithely. Eyes are quite simple and lone, Certainly, lips could have been poutier and a little bold. Heard a lot about the marks on the moon, that has increased the urge to manifold, obvious from the stories of bird Chakor’s croon. Why does the thirsty earth long for the monsoon bursts, an adventurous moth has a desire to get burnt, the night want to melt into a fading dawn?