I am sifting

Your sight,

Expressions of eyes

Every smile

And tear

Your words and hush

Silence and cries

I am sifting

Your delight

 And dolor

Tones of states and countenance

 Every line on your face

Digging for the golden vein

Of your love…

The found is only dust…

Blown by wind

Into your face…

Golden dust on a portrait of Saint


Without your love

Gold has no price

It is just a dust

Scattered over

The stars

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