The cast off leaves after the Summer is undeniably, the Fall.
Litter this high, abound, covering every square of the ground.
The brownness of old green leaves, predominantly musky,
Awkwardly retaining the dews from the densely humid nights.
Often, I pretended you were never here, can that be true?
Your ghosts fill every space including my mind.
I still think about you, only it’s all the time,
Reflecting sometimes, our old school dance in front of the mirror.
I wondered, how someone could leave this much void behind!
On my windows, rains rhythmically drum, mocking your labored breath.
The bed space unoccupied, absent of your hipped waist and body sprawled,
The unused covers, how you kept me pre-occupied, with little things.
May be I can replace you with another, if I wanted to!
Such that possess your admirable puritanic quintessence?
The world my oyster may yet be, without you, half its shelf life!
Time and again considering, “wouldn’t I rather it be you? ”
March 10 at 6: 57pm · Like
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem