If my body consists of atoms, why do I feel out of my elements? Deprived of air, the room feels stifling am I the only one struggling to breathe? Unsolicited advice all eyes fixed on me, Do you sense that too or do you label me insane? Do you feel it too afraid you are the only one while here I stand as proof?
May be we'll meet in the 70th min Or on the 8th day of the week In the 13th month of the year But we'll definitely meet. May be when the Amputee claps his hands Admiring the voice of the mute and may be In the margins of that novel we love.
