My life would belie
this assertion that I am over the pain
for I write of hypothesis where you exist & I feel alive.
Grief spins me through seasons of reticence and hush
but under downpour of monsoon is when I cry.
They tell me how sorry they are for my loss
but queries or concerns I continually fail to gratify.
They never did nor will they ever know the ‘Us'
Or how this love is supposed to be quantified.
What you are to me, what I was to you
why the coincidence felt like some mystical try
Maybe, if you could be here right now, you’d laugh
watching me negotiate this hurt one mundane rhyme at a time.
Or, maybe you'd hold me in your arms like you used to
till I'd break down watching my knots of diffidence come untied
I cannot remember how many days I have spent reminiscing,
how often bitten lips would muffle anguish of the nights.
A fancy conjecture may it be but the belief that we are
in some parallel realm together is the one that I keep by my bedside.
And as statistically insignificant an evidence there is
secretly I cling to it even if the solution is clearly contrived.