Solitude is an addiction;
Social contact is a fucking disease.

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in memory of rainy days... that will not let me go


now and then: rainy days

rain
wistful gobbets of memories
sojurned on the window panes.
rouse not when they convene
to conjure a retrospect

how distant my mind has wandered,
have i erred?
behind fogged up windows
could i abscond;
behind a resplendent clarity
my mind has wandered

whither do i tote this ardor lost
'tween the enamoring dampness;
'tis a six string serenade
making its pensive recital
of yearnings for a safe return

teary precip beheld by a kaleidoscope
enamelled such with a myriad of colours
but alas is never whole.
raindrops sunder as foreordained
such are pieces of my soul

meander now with the ebb of days
and ferry me then to another life.
wistful gobbets of memories
sojurned on the window panes
rain

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