Let Me Pick Up Her Whisper Poem by Shakira Nandini

Let me pick up her whisper, let me talk to her
Let me open the window and see who is walking on the street
Now I don't know what to do
Let me be the flame of a torch, waving in the air
This can be a comfort to me
The tiredness makes me mix my dust with love.
What kind of craziness comes to me.
I should also see this self being produced in me.
I also have a crazy shape.
If there is a chance, let me also open this package.
Not in me. Wandering, not so turbulent in me.
What standard should I use to measure my loyalty?