Waiting in the Cloud-City

: I leave with you that old self of mine, while the new me seeks to transcend even myself...how long it will take to cross this endless path and return to you, when this purification of my deepest feelings will reach its end, even I do not know. I will keep you filling the space within my chest, yet I will not touch you—is this, then, what you wanted?

So be it. I will sustain myself in the intoxication of your breath, yet I will no longer stand at the edge of your feelings. The brahminy kite of my memory will remain restless in search of you, yet it will not beat its wings toward your address.

Will you be mine now? The final hour of the falling evening will wait for you, where each sip of tea will hold only you.

: You were the one who said our destination was the same. Then why this farce?

: Daily these tears fall silent and still, in the rhythm of a familiar death. Yet still I wish for us to meet in some dead cloud-city.