That evening when the unseen stars were climbing through the sky,
I touched you with my fingertips, and still you did not shy.
My tainted soul met yours and turned as pure as morning dew,
We spoke in secret codes no breeze around us knew.
Each shadow, step, and rustling leaf was frozen in its trance,
You felt my heartbeat pause, caught in the avalanche.
I asked, “What do you feel?”
You said, “Something unreal.”
I said, “Your wounds I could heal.”
You warned, “A thief comes seeking what he longs to steal.”
I asked, “Why take me in, when you know my art so well?”
You said, “A pearl belongs within the darkness of its shell.”
I said, “Ask me something—aren’t you eager for more?
For I’m the ship that sails away while you remain ashore.”
You asked, “Where are you from? Your hair is all curled.”
I said, *“Half of me is Indian, and half belongs to the world.
Half of me is conscience, half of me is clay,
Half of me is virtue, half of me is play.
Half of me is shallow, half the depth of sea,
Half stands before you, half is where your eyes can’t see.
I’m but a knot of savage serpents, keeper of a curse,
And you, small spark, are the light within this universe.
Half of you is fragrant, ordered and alphabetic,
Half of you is trouble, half of you romantic.
Half of you is joy, half is melancholy,
Half a beautiful sin, the other half holy.
It was a textbook seduction, a poetic alchemy,
your emotions defeated every logical enemy.
I own no gems, no fortune—only verses from my heart;
Yet I bind you to these pages,
Reading always from the start.
— Anas Merchant