For Her he was willing to change. Poetry was the smoke-filled air that made his chest ache, velvet were the sheets that could not house enough warmth ...n the chilled night but, somehow, were more than enough to make his arms slick with the slightest sheen of sweat. The girders that made him were not undone by Her but by his willingness to accept the healing Love could gift. Such is the essence of all creation. These are the rules. The shifting from one song to another brought him to the present. The day i took up my job at bangalore we started missing each other. After working for two months i took ill and i returned home. Seeing me sick my mom hugged and cried. My dad suggested me to look for a house at bangalore so that both of us can stay at the same place and she could look after me to which we both readily agreed. That evening my dad left and both of us had dearly dinner and slept.Next morning i woke up late and entered bathroom. I was shocked to see my mom bathing. I was quiet. More

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