March, marching towards me

Much I wished                                She didn’t come home

Reflections of her, float like roll film                                                     
Her image grazes my hand         
Larks around my kitchen oven      
In my bed, she sits                         
And, I across, of course, adore

Oh March, marching towards me Hear the birds tell her, I adore her
Swoon of my life, I athirst       Reeling my soul

I want her and I, the best of beautiful things

I say I don’t want it                       
Take me afar                                         It comes anyway                         
Eerily, quietly                                   Oh March, marching towards me  
Hear the birds tell her, I
adore her
Hear the birds tell her, I am
valiant

I need her voice, lull                       
My conundrums                                  I need her eyes, halt                        
Me thinking

That soul, there, is beautiful         
Tell her please,                                     
I told myself over and over
again

I love you, I love you, I love you.

‘Anytime is fine, really’                  
You know I’m dying to hear you.

/Sehrish.S Syed/