Page  I

"broken refrain of piano chords in melodic minor
drops down from the mosaic of midnight
and silver linings , past the ceiling of
archipelago of stars we had lost ourselves to
counting , in that street by the moonlight sonata "

Page II

"our framed memories hung up to dry
on the telephone wire , resonates in
the returning call of monsoon winds
- fading like the hum of guitar lead at outro - gently let down ,
masked in the swish of your dress - a curtain fall ,
as your footsteps grow fainter ,
leaving behind the wakes of "Let her Go" on loop ,
in the crowd of words , in pages of my diary "

Page III

"the steam liberated from seams of orphaned coffee
gently kisses the cold cracked spectacles you forgot to take
(like a letter it peeped out from the drawer
as the ink saw the inkpot
gathering up labels and price tag
as the capped fluid bottle sought out a new desk )
and wells up into tear drops on those lines
reluctantly slides down , past the tortoise rim of your oval glasses "

Page IV

"the wish on a shooting star shatters
and drives miles away from the privacy
in the cozy nooks of cuddled up emojis ,
selfies and myriad other "little things"
but now it's naught but howls like stormy winds in marketplace
tearing brick by brick the walls
that had held two lives so close ,
thorns looking out from smashed boardings
let loose a silent stream of blood
trickling like small beads of rosyness
spreading its arms out at the root of new leaf
like the blood stained eyes of a sunrise
as convergences diverge into parallel horizons "

Epilogue

«unkempt story of brown hairs
on a shock of black circled eyes , dry cheeks
ink smeared stubble on that jawline
rested on an emaciated frame ,
as fingers move to and fro in scribbling
on pages torn out from a dog eared notebook
lips mumble something uninked and unheard
over and over as the head nods and shakes

the corners of mouth tremble into smile
as the page crumples up in those
tremulous hands , scores a basket
in the trash bin gaping awide near the corner of the room and surrounded by scraps that missed trajectorial entry ,  into the bliss of wasted years ,
into the darkness of rotting away into
oblivion like the gangrenous marks
of needle in the elbow , morphine
bowed its head in that putrid reek

tears burst out from sunken eyes - a shower in desert horizons snuffed out 
the next moment by winds that throw
up a tantrum in those dunes of deserted room
the hands busy themselves in tearing
out hair clumps,  of silkiness that was now so coarse , mouthfuls of them
he takes in as he wants to choke himself ,
out of those haunting memories of his love
lost to the fault in their stars »