In a moment, when the rocket lands
Down on earth we realize without
Much undue mirth that
Possessing is a temporary fantasy; which,
To undermine, is mediocrity.
It never grows any better than this:
Where you wouldn’t know whether I am
Yours or his; or whether we are ours,
You two, me and him. Mind, we never for a moment
Use dual SIM.
We are all a snowball down a frostbite hill,
Aspiring an avalanche
And all ready to kill; unless the dream
Scatters and the pieces smear out
Leaving little trace of us and a half used pill.