Awakening Love

She comes with a cup of hot tea
I find it utterly cold
The hotter fingertips sink like unwanted shower
In the dark cold drain.

All I know I’m not in love with myself,
I miss the sprinkle of fragrance in the drizzle;
Flowers may boom, Light may be cool,
I know I’m dead like deserted rock. 

Muse , Dear lift me,
with your touch
I may be the Konark of emotions,
The Taj of memory,
The spark of ornaments;
I believe when lovers cannot, you can,
Can make me love again.