Caliginous Love.

So, here the mortal who voyages through noon,
Slip beneath the shade before it looms.
Park yourself in the shadow that looms,
The mortal who voyages through noon.
Dry are now, the brooks, and rivulets,
The water has transmuted to nothingness.
My this hydrous hue, my this succulent face,
My brackish teardrops, all dried bereft of a preface.

And you can hear my ululation, since,
I hope it seeps down till you sink,
And whisper you to never, ever flay.
The little sedulous faith given to you away.
And when I did not shower anything ruefully,
You vouched for traces of brownness and greenery,
You didn't ask for the aroma, your obduracy;
But I'm masquerading as if there was nothing queasy.
And I hope your bloody heart does not thaw icy water.
And if it does not, I hope our distance truncates nearer. <3