Just after crossing the dusty signal; overflowed with comfortable people,
I saw her.
That same face after ten long years.
Those same curious eyes looking for a pinch of wind through glittering road…
She was wearing a blue saree… she was wearing a yellow afternoon…
a brown lock of hair on her face.
Strangely after seeing her I mostly missed myself,
those evenings of ours when our shadows met through hanging mountains,
that last phone call where I lied just to get her touch one last time,
those anticipations for musical resonance…
it was only ten years and It feels like I have crossed an ocean without a proper vessel.
She looked at me through stormy heads of this running city…
She smiled at me, she waved at me and she made me realize that monogamy doesn’t come with the loneliness of a stranger in bed.
I smiled back…she called me with her draping eyes…
And I realized I have travelled exactly in same speed for each day in these ten years to get back to where I started…
Again I wanted to see an upsetting sunset right through her fallen hair.
We talked, we talked…we went to a cheap pub…we drank beer, we hold hand during the cruising automobiles…
but she was gone or probably I was gone…I did came back to same home but how could I ignore the journey that has made me a non revelatory madman.
Later that night I kissed her and walked through a lonesome neighborhood…
These matured trees by the night avenues always look like enlightened human in their silent revolution…
I took her to one of those and I kissed her once again,
she got inside me, she made me numb…
But then my pages were waiting for me…my secluded chair was waiting for me…
How many lost men have ever gotten the chance to live the greatest love poem?
I got that in a splash of scattered evening.

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Photograph: Google.