We met on the bleakest of days, in a world we crochetted together. We paved our path with wilted flowers, an unwavering broken bridge and a grotesque door with rusty  handles. You could not come at a better time and I fretted when you hid your identity. You took me on a crazy whirlwind to places unseen, dreams too far to grasp in my hideous reality-Cloudy days, heavy skies, horses and carriages, fancy dresses and tall castles in the air. For every overwhelming emotion,came great ecstasy, Every burden, a lightness of heart. We have never been perfect, but together you called us ‘just right’ and when we finally met, it was like gazing at the sun but not being forced to squint.  I beheld you in all your grandeur and hilarious weirdness, like how you love the colour ‘brown’ and will never settle for anything less than suede, your electric fingers always aching for some oddball activity and the stories you tell of love and war and humanity’s flaws.
Yes, I am  bit of a handful and my laziness surprises me sometimes, my heart may stray and my ideas become stale, but I will plead and grovel ,chase you through our realms until I am graced with your forgiveness for my constant bickering and abandonment.….and all that sputtered, coughed and died return.
To Jasper,
My muse.
(We’ll meet at the Yellow walls).

P.S: Don’t wear a necktie, I loathe formal togs.