Sarang..my 1000 armed man.

I look at him,
See him as he returns my gaze
My emotions mirrored in his eyes.

I touch him. His smooth mithril body.
I walk to his
warmth enveloping me.
Warmth from the incessant throbbing and
Whirl of his multitude thoughts.

I kiss him lightly on his head.
Feel the dampness of the night before.
As my fingers brush his fingers.
He of the 1000 arms.

They give lightly to mine.
The pressure of my fingers on his.
No words. The slightest change of pressure.

He understands.

My Sarang,you would think,
the 1000 armed man.

My anger, my sorrow, my worries and thoughts.
Barrage him. Buffet him. Bully him and smother him.
He responds.
As fast as I do.
You would think
my 1000 armed man.

He teaches me math.
Smiling at my clumsiness.
He writes crystal english.
Why! You would think,
he is 1000 minded too.

His voice talks on that of anybody around him.
The best mimic.
Hate it when he mimics me though!!!

The tunes he renders across on the violin and the sax,
the percussion on the drums.
You would think he is,
a 1000 armed man.

As I lean across him.
My tears brushing his chest.
He does nothing.
A rock.
To absorb my...me.

I yearn for his arms around me.
You would think,
he was 1000 armed man.

He voices my opinions,
Lends credence to my belief,
He puts forth my plans,
I live for him.
He with me..

Sarang, my 1000 armed man.

I wish he had life. For then. He would be Sarang. My man.

Now he is Sarang, my lappieeeeeeeeeee..

My Laptop.

Sarang, my 1000 minded Laptop.