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Remembering You

Remembering You

A ghostly flower blooming and withering,
(or blot) blinking with colors that strain to brightness,
to equal those of what were seen before;
fragments, with the music or plain utterances
attempting to be as loud (or as soft)
as what they really were...

But all in vain.

Blurred and ephemeral. Just for a haunting and fleeting...
Many times an unexpected visitor,
an intruder, inside...

What is complete and constant is that depressing spirit:

Void of form and details, yet lingering, encumbering,
dragging. Punctuated, highlighted,
by the thief that intermittently
gives, curses, and leaves

with a piece.

Fledgling









Fledgling


Gone are the months and years
when I would compare your coming
With the coming of rains;
Monsoon-
our favourite season,
stashed between old books like yellowed letters,
is just respite now.
The heat is gone, 
The draining pulse of a fledgling love fades
With the drying of every puddle.
Our houses are close by,
But our worlds, far apart. 
Perhaps when the earth is full of water
and it doesn't rain anymore,
we might meet on an island where we will always be the children that we were,
when we first met.
 
Proiti Seal Acharya
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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