The Psychiatrist

With your own way, purely untouched, you prescribe

Antidote to calm

Your beloved’s unhindered desperation, emerged

Of uncountable days,

Passed in your absence, counting; the sinking

Throbs of her heart

Like loaded clouds shower, on dried spears,

By the side of a mountain

As high as your beloved’s unsaid pleas, in waiting,

As if assured, your sheen would stretch silver-lining

In her eyes

Smoothly, smoothly healing; the aches soaked

In the fluid that flow through arteries and veins