light
piercing through darkness
night-
day
unblend,
blend-
on the edge of a dream,
at the end of the road
by my lake,
near a tree,
under the skies,
-next to me
beneath the floral shaking; of spring, of autumn ;
trembling to my touch;
immersed in solitude,
alone not lonely-
i hear your whispers
etheral conversations
of longings,
yearnings,
inundated, 
our eyelids bear
the residue
celestial intoxication within;
madness without

…

Dee is from lahore. loves old trees, words and surreal nights