Only they can revisit time
When they reminisce.
Only they visit unborn time
When enmeshed in longings
Still they only
Do not have enough time.
For soon they want more
Where there is only less
Lovers are,
The only circle
That exist outside a dot
So not bound to time and place
So beyond the measurable
Lovers are the irony of ironies
The reason
There is no reason
So they keep up the search
Till they get cinched by their passion
But that's the secret
Of their warmth.
But,
In the warmth of their cuddle
They get frozen
Again , losing time and place
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