you did go away leaving me hanging...
in the middle of a conversation...
anticipating, and drifting in to the highs and lows of it all...
like that bee near the blossom
on the other side of the glass pane...
like that island surrounded by sea...
in the middle of no where...
and that moment...
that hung in the passage of time...
the story of yearning is the only story told...
those make the throat dry...
like the eyes of that bee , the sand on the island and that pause in that time...
