all that is not a dream

Posted on | January 16, 2010 | No Comments

Let us forget all about her,
The weather is sultry and there is no moon,
And even the stars hide,
As if scared of looking into her eyes.

She is gone, and there will be no coming back,
And the words I should have told her-
Have been left unsaid.
Pending work, left in the in-tray, forever.

The night is clammy, and suffocating,
And the stars are absent, as if regretful,
And I remember words which were never said,
What is the word for memories of things that never happened?

The night is ugly, and I am thinking that she is gone,
And maybe she is with someone else,
That she might be happy is no longer a consolation-
Does he make her laugh? Or cry?
Does he eat chocolates? Or does she fight him over his smoking?
She is gone, and there are memories only,
Shadows of words which will never be said now,
And the thought of her in someone else’s arms,
Maybe even someone else in her heart-

The night is colourless, except when lightening streaks,
Like seeing her smile through our never-ending quarrels,
I never told her how much I loved her,
Assuming she always knew. Perhaps not.

A fan swings on the ceiling, and I stare listless at it.
She is gone, and a fire is still burning inside.
Perhaps she loved, and it is certain that I did love her,
But now only there are memories-
What is the word for words that never were spoken?

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