ART

when the heavy cloud was descending slowly...

when the fog was beginning to thicken ...
when the horizon was turning invisible...
she was finally ready...

every move was slow...every touch was soft...
every breath comes heartily...
every passion comes delicately...
every desire comes roughly...
every meet comes together until

she knows there would come a day when the word she writes more times than she could count would be impossible to read...mst ingt biru2 kn;p

...art is an attempt the erase the pain...

but is this considered as an art? ;D