When the drops loiter on the leaves
\nWith stamps of carefree insects
\nThey fall through the holes sometimes
\nAnd hang loose on the tip
\nWaiting to moisten
\nThe wings of a moth,
\nNot worried about the behemoth
\nWalking around
\nThey love the journey to dissipation
\nJust like a breathless being
\nGasping for solace under
\nThe shadow of armpits
\nWarm, moist and dark,
\nJust right for the dreams
\nTo lay eggs
\nOf whispers
\nHopes
\nAnd also abandoned
\nDesire of walking through
\nThe forest,
\nAlone in the night
\nTo listen to the rustling sound
\nOf the leaves
\nSome dry, some green
\nSome generous and some quite mean
\nWhy else will they not reveal
\nThe path without the slippery slopes
\nAmidst many of The vain hopes
\nAnd dormant desires
\nOf squeezing the memories
\nOf moments that
\nA creeper fearlessly aspires<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When the drops loiter on the leaves With stamps of carefree insects They fall through the holes sometimes And hang loose on the tip Waiting to moisten The wings of a moth, Not worried about the behemoth Walking around They love the journey to dissipation Just like a breathless being Gasping for solace under The … <\/p>\n