Who locked the open gates
Of your heart to keep me out
In the cold winters of jilted lovers?
Who drank dry your milk
Of sincerity and left me empty
With poisoned coffee garnished
With bitter leaf taste?
Who closed the open page
Of your readable manners
To blindfold me in the darkroom
Of your maximum prison?
The coffee of friendship
Is sweetened by the milk
Of sincerity. Love in motion
Must not be grounded by
The lips of silence.
