Is he not aroused?

Why no fire of wild lust in his eyes?

Doesn’t he realize the moments are dying one by one?

We both don’t know when our breaths will dance together again.

Or is it only my heart is young?

His eyes found no feast

and keep looking stone cold.

Continue reading “Men”


After 20 years I am going  her home,

to meet her mom, my Julia’s mom.


Julia, you remember, we both were

two ever singing  cuckoos of the same feather,

two never resting Brooks of the same valley,

two ever-smiling little girls of the same age twelve.

Continue reading “Julia”