Her

In a lust-filled evening under the heavenly imprints,
In the dew-filled meadow of the drubbing leaves,
All I could catch was a moist scent.

With the galactic surge of motions filling me in,
Do I realise how far I had come for her,
and how far she had gone like a flower withered from a rootless branch.

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Her explosively expressive sundew eyes,
And the lushing intense eyebrows that calmed mine,
Her undoubtedly metamorphosed
Smooth hair,
With a tinge of an aromatic Specced
Nose breathing delight.

Her curls flowing in as the Nile sweeps in,
To further help quantify the outlay of that lively visage,
Her expressions as vivid as an oozing drop of honey, falling slowly,
Relishing each moment in the air,
Cleansing the pain of the unsatiated,
And touching the Unseen ground with sudden vigour.

At this moment per say, her luscious liveliness,
Emboldened in a closed heavenly structure,
which others say is my heart,
Beats at this moment, like a solitary harmonic waiting for the right overtone to strike.

But it is one sided, my mind says,
For two hearts to match, their hands must be strongly intertwined, it says.
Your case is unilateral,

I don’t love her anymore, the heart says.
But the way it says’ her’, tells us otherwise.

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