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An enigmatic love poem, by Ayub, exclusively for Different Truths.

Just for a while descend down
Stairs of this poem,
And peek into me and your own inner-self,
If you aren’t the asset of my soul
Then who is at last?

When you converse with a dewy tone,
It seems as if you stitch my heart,
Like a fresh dream,
You make each wire of my soul fragrant,
With the colour of poesy.

O! My sweet,
It seems as if you go through ablution
With the wetness kneaded in the touch of my lips,
While sinking down into gurgling pulsations
From each channel of my heart,
If you aren’t the asset of my soul
Then who is at last?
You are of course.

You’re who let me drown into fragrance,
Of your anchal,
Into the warmth of rainbow,
Of your colourful phalanges,
And into abysses of the lakes,
Of your dream like eyes.
If you aren’t the asset of my soul
Then who is at last?
You are of course.

Just for a while,
Descend down the stairs of this poem,
And peek into me and your own inner-self,
Where I stand and where you do,
You stand at a little distance
Still and motionless,
Why are you so engrossed?
Whether it is you!

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