A Conspiracy Theory

she hides from me,
behind
a veil of clouds,

a human
has limitations,
a human does,

and the sun,
teases me
every morning on that,

for there aren’t
any veils,
between him and her,

and oh, how i burn
each morning
that i rise,

that yellow fellow
shining bright,
but without a heart,

and inspite
of all my cajoling
the conspiring clouds,

to clear the view,
between me
and my heart,

they tease me further
by sending
glassy raindrops,

reflecting the most
beautiful
images of her,

that i can
neither hold,
nor take a sip of,

images of her
happily dancing
under that villainous sun,

and the sun,
teases me
every morning,

for there aren’t
any veils,
between him and her.

© vidursahdev 2022