Cat

I see a cat sneaking into 

my parent's bedroom,

strangely reminding me of you sneaking peeks at that girl from the train, 

wearing a yellow dupatta in that rain

I stare back at the cat the way she did 

And the cat runs away just like you did

And I let out an oddly satisfied smile, wondering if she did the same, shooing you away.

But then she never saw the busy London street you made on the dusty library table

Nor she will know how it feels to lose breath

watching you paint twinkling comet tailed eyes and fresh summer rain smile.

I see the cat getting back in

and I wish you will get back,

not to her, but me, staring, just like you stare at her.