thy shalt not give in. conquer, cajole, career around rejection. break down barriers. make the stone-hearted sing.
thou shalt say i art the light of thy life. thy joy, thy pride. thy weakness, thy strength. thou shalt keep saying it again, and again, and again.
thou shalt love my burnt toast and my bitter coffee. thou shalt not call my rasam bland.
thou shat walk with me in the rain, splash through puddles, ruminate, star-gaze, doodle, smile in the darkness.
thou shalt not make me wait. waiting is an endless pain, an unfinished book, a half-smile.
thou shalt lift me up and carry me about. thy arms wilt be mine cage, locomotion, refuge, sanctuary.
thou shalt sing me racuous melodies. read me gibran, the songs of solomon. croon careless whisper, every move you make.
thou shalt not find govinda movies funny. thou shalt love gulmohars, golden showers, the smell of old books.
thou shalt wander the world with me. inhabit the realm of mists and high mountains, never ending plains, old bookshops, streetside musicians, grassy knolls, hillsides.
more than anything, thou shalt be a goof. let thy silliness wash away my morose broodings. be the silver lining.
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