Phosphorescent

Almost a jaded body,

I am marking my steps 

to fall just next to you,

expecting a perfect moonlight 

and counting on the fingers 

to see if the opposites meet.

What we said last night about

the cages we have been living in,

forging and reforging in our sleep,

it's a lie of the mind -

a perfect illusion of the conscious,

anomaly in our theory 

and what will we discern in the moonlight,

with slight tremors beneath our feet

and crackling of stars above our heads

that we are,

but only rising in these times of our lives.

For Akshat.