The butterfly fluttered around.
He would not stay still.
Perching on my shoulders,
I reach out.
He flies down
And settles on my forefinger.
Unable to resist,
I touch him.
Drained of his colours,
He stops fluttering.
I look down.
Quiver in mid air.
Filled with an unfathomable emotion,
I feel overwhelmed.
I lean in willingly,
Opening my hands.
Empty, they are.
Empty, I am.
He was brimming over.
Know not what to give.
They can only take.
I could not.
I look on helplessly,
As he gazes at me
With eager anticipation.
He: You never came back.
She: You never called out to me.
He: I thought you wished to be left alone.
She: I was letting you have some peace.
He: I sent mails.
She: I had deleted that account.
He: I called too.
She: I didn’t use that number anymore.
He: You shut all the doors.
She: There was one left ajar. Our door. If only you had stepped through.
She had always loved the way he laughed. Softly, lightly. As if dusting home baked cookies with sugar powder. Gently.
He had always loved the way she started giggling at the silliest of his jokes.
It had been months since he made up a joke just to see her break into irrepressible giggles.
It had been precisely three years, ten months and twenty days since she heard his laughter.
And it was their forever after.
He: I waited that day for you.
She: I was no longer certain about us. When you had told me jokingly that everything had an expiry date, I had begun to wonder if I was holding onto something that no longer existed.
He: I waited for a long time. You had never been late, earlier.
She: I wasn’t going to come. I left the town the previous night.
He: You could have informed me.
She: You would have asked for reasons. Reasons that I didn’t know either.
He: So, you ran off.
She: I removed myself from your life. We had changed. If only you could accept to yourself what had happened. It was over.
It was one night.
Thousands of years,
A whisper of your name,
And the memories stir.
I turn up my head,
Hoping to find you looking down at me,
With that gentle gaze.
I reach out with my hand, absent-mindedly,
While crossing that street,
To walk together.
On the verge of forgetful sleep,
I snuggle into the side of the bed
Where you lay,
The last time we explored each other,
Searching for your warmth.
I turn up my head
And find that I’m alone.
I reach out
And catch only empty air.
I snuggle closer
And reach the cold empty side of the bed.
You are no longer here,
Yet present every breath of my way.