Not the verse laced with magical words,
or an act to show me your divine worth,
nor the signs of any lovable notes,
or any precious gift raring to unearth

Neither the mystic rain,
nor the enigmatic sun,
or any seasonal bloom,
or the desirable moon

No such spectacle,
or splendor,
or any occult,
can ever capture my soul

For all you need
to drive me insane,
is your gentle
innocent tactile touch

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah