Conversations

It will not start with a cliché "hello!"

I won't ask you if you are doing fine

The conversation we hold will have 

our eyes bickering

our silences laughing 

and the lub-dub of my love-intoxicated heart 

pitching in my favorite background sound

In the subtle art of word-warfare

I won't drag you into some info-war

or replenish your ideology 

No attempt to make you take a side 

on a potential world war

no obsession for conclusions

no chase for answers 

In the negation of words 

I'll comprehend your breaths

I know and

I ask

Will you not freak out if I ask again 

how is the city treating you 

and if you are eating well?

Will you not nod and act all integrated 

when your tanned skin will be suffocating you 

in the air still so unknown?

When your eyes will narrate 

the story of the malignant joy, 

you felt upon being

noticed by the girl you thought would never care,

I won't press flat your smile 

by asking your career choice

In the unusual conversation of mine, 

we'll talk about the ugly things, 

the less urgent ones,

about norms as budging as grammar rules

and projections, by your friend once so dear 

-as manipulative as a math's theorem.

We'll devour over your white hair, loose shirt and 

your appearance, less fancy, petite and childlike

and when your comfortable blood 

will turn your cheek red with laughter,

one last time I'll ask you

if your soul is doing fine.

Don't nod the usual way

just pause for a while….

dramatize your eyes 

as I walk through the whirlpool of your sigh.