As she opened her eyes, sparkling
To the sun, beaming
Remembering the night, faintly
Drunk drive to somewhere far, like crazy

With lips so red, like a cherry wine
With marks of love, instead of stains of tears
With bites of sweet pain, instead of biting pain
With body feeling loved, instead of feeling gloved
With bedsheet ruffled, instead of self scuffle
Feeling so soft, melting like frost
Feeling so content, like the curled up sleeping pet
Feeling so warm, inside out

And she could breathe again
And see the eyes grin
And feel the cheeks turning pink
And play with the hair, turning grey

But, if only it was a fairy tale
And she could wake up like this everyday
But, it was only one night
Waiting for another moon
Cause along with the gooey truffle, life also gives sour lemons

She contains. Herself.
And assures herself.
She gets back to loving. Herself.
And not let it disappoint herself.


Existential Crisis.