We fell on each other, one leaf on top of the other. Could anyone figure out the probability of a falling withered leaf being caught by another spritely green one? Many leaves fell, many were carried by the winds, many were stepped on by dastardly humans, but we fell under the mangrove, a bazaar where it was a miracle we spent most of our days without bumping into each other. Untouched secret alcove. It would never cease to astonish me how it occurred, for I destined myself to stay untouched by the leaves' world and politics. I liked to observe it all silently shriveled in a corner filled with overthinkings and insecurities.

When you fell upon me, your vibrant waxy, shiny self, shiny despite the sufferings you went through; shiny cause you didn't focus much on the trials and hardships and thought of overcoming them by taking things into your control; shiny against the odds and soon we got into the flow. As if we were in a current we saw in each other a part of ourselves. Your banter and humor a-life-d me up with youth and vigor; my lone and lost times replaced with merry making and gayness.

I did not realize the temperature tilting lower air molecules by air molecules. We had our slight rifts which you made it a point to my awareness but I chose to lie to myself and not see. I chose to hold onto your warmth and freshness that kept being there despite the odd days where you shriveled a bit.

The winds started blowing and your leaf blades started to poke me, so subtle that when they really pierced into me, all I could find within myself was how hilarious you were. You took that often as me mocking you while I was finding the situation hilarious. What is so hilarious? The fact I knew you were my own Judas rising up heel against me and yet I entertained you, cocooned you in my shriveling self as much as I could.

Wretched am I, pitiable am I, gobbledygook-y of a person am I, to be glued to you. For how can I forget the days when you added vigor and insight to my sinews? For how can I ignore the weight of your presence my soul? Wasn't I trying to etch your veins, midribs and stalk onto the canvas of sands granules to show how much you mean to me? Why did I think of your microscopic blemishes as cute? Does that speak to you of my sincerity?

Nay, for all you saw was that my colours kept changing. The worlds in me which you could have explored, you mistook for my incongruence and instability. Little did you know I was a variegated leaf with bits of greens scattered here and there. Little did you know how much of your chlorophyll covering each cell of yours inspired me to become a normal leaf with esteem.

No, you don't know about all that. For I know how much you would despise me so. And thus I allowed you to believe I was as green-ful as you. I angled myself in such a way that I only let the sunlight reflect on my green bright, achieving side to your eyes. And easily you thought I was a fresh leaf as you. You might call it selfish. Go on, please do so. You were the first green leaf to fall on me, and I'm such a cold opportunist to molly coddle you. I suffer from CBLD (curiosity of bright leaves disorder).

Soon our winters became the unwelcome guest. The silence of icicles tore me day and night. Is there any blizzard heavier than your touch me not behavior? I touch you out of love, out of concern, out of neediness, out of companionship and you...


You...

You shrink back as if I'm the Ice Queen. Do you think I can devour you up? Pray, tell me how to get past your walls. Pray, don't be so cold to my ardent advances.
It was all futile for I was only a variegated leaf resting beneath you, a touch-me-not leaf.

word count 692

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A/N : this poem was originally written for the prompt transition from autumn to winter as a part of poetic fragments contest.

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