It’s a murmur of happiness –
The tone of your honeyed voice.
That for the life of it cannot sing.
It makes you real, somehow.
Between dancing with ideas
and sleeping behind stories,
scrambling the crooked lines –
insisting on being perfectly fine,
The heart realized –
You were meant to be mine.
The sanity burst into laughter,
giggling till it could taste madness.
Cruel, cruel joke but so fitting.
Bye, bye, crippled world,
I am officially splitting.