Those honey coated eyes
were the “okay.” to every “okay?”
I used to throw,
when sheets used to haunt me
In search of rhythm,
to him I used to go.
The one
named after my favourite colour
In his smile
I used to see the rainbow,
Every mountain was his own
and every stream
he used to know.
His poetry
were the narrow roads
and wide sea used to
inspire him the most,
For they said he carried galaxies
within his eyes
had pockets full of cosmos.
~🧜