A Promise ....

I would let this poem
be yours,
engulfing the space
that separates us.
My words, now,
have no ego,
no stubbornness,
no bird, no sky,
without the color of music
sans the sound of rain;
beyond the limitation
of the real and
above the vastness
of the virtual.

This poem
would be yours
If you marry me;
I will give you this poem
in which
the Sun soothes and the rain boils,
in which
my breathing snaps, my arms ache,
in which
we two are twined unending, undeviating.
This poem has drifted in my breath for ages;
I have held it in my bosom and nurtured, for long.
This poem would be yours forever and always.
I will give you this poem
If you marry me!