I do not know
when you became poetry for me
or when your autumn wind brought in
the abounding fragrance of a maiden's hair
I do not know
how these whining buses and car horns
filled up the gaps in our converse
You and me sitting together
at a street-side cafe near twilight
and the sounds of a day transgressing
into darkness
I remember the glint in your eyes
as if they can interpret the meaning
of my fumbling with words
You casually concealed your laughter
with a flimsy innocence
Yet when did I care for your feelings...
You've got to be mine
the rhyme of your life
has to be understood by no one else
but me
You might have had a hundred lovers
but its only me who can persuade you
to immerse in moonlight
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