Day 3:

Mrigtrishna. Illusion.
But when I dress up in jewels and silk, 
An imaginary garland clasped firmly to my bosom, 
I place the fragrant string of blossoms around your neck. 

Is it you I see, the monsoon cloud complexioned Lord, 
Or am I a deer stuck in a desert, 
Taking every shallow dune as water
when love drenched is all my lips can bear? 
And then these eyes move upwards to you. 

Satya or Mithya? 
Can the heart really tell? 
Will you answer? 

           .・。.・゜✭・✿.・✫・゜・。.