mayawrites

A soldier, swearing that she swears to use it wisely,

Craves for a single drop of blood,

By her own hand.

A flower, swearing that he swears to use it wisely,

Craves for a single drop of water.

Soaked by his own root.

A soldier clothes himself with armature,

Undresses herself of fragility and humility,

A flower sweeps the floors, just for a sip,

But all he is doing is mingling with satire.

A soldier collects snowflakes on their tongue,

As if playing a game of dice,

A soldier fans herself by walking in her own breath,

A flower smiles as the snowflake falls on his hand,

Little melting water advertise their brand.

A play of self-sufficience,

A gay of passive acceptance.