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If Memories Could Write

If Memories Could Write

2 mins 115 2 mins 115

The first memory would come packed

In an envelope scented

With the perfume you used

At our first date

The smell of yearning

Of roses and love

The softness you had

Of a girl sitting cross-legged

On the other side of

The cozy couples

Hiding her face behind a hardcover

Held upside down

Reconsidering my decision to come here

One eye fixed at the gate

Another at the waiter

Wishing one of your lovers

To unite with you

Tea or me.

My memory would tell me to wait

[as if I could]

And let you finish your tea

For you were leaving the cafe

And my story.

The second memory would come splashing

With raindrops and cold winds

Inside a paper boat that felt

Your touch

Before me

The silver end of your dupatta

Fussing with the flowing water

About the beauty of a rainbow

Sitting beside me

The left side of her face red with cold

With love

And the subtle happiness flowing down

Lips stretching to the wide ends

To break the barriers of distances and silences

Of the darkness and let it consume

All the colors at the place

And revolve around you

While you slide the boat towards me.

My memory would tell me to leave

[as if it was possible]

And let the dark doubts engulf you

For the boat would soon be destroyed

The message inside would never reach me.

The third memory would come inside

The dress and flowers I gifted you 

On the night we decided to take our love

To a level of transparency

At the crumpled bed sheets

Every wrinkled part

Telling a tale of that night

With every minute that passed

A breath fell short and silences were broken

When your heart accepted my trust and soul

To live within you for the time unknown

Your eyes observing the beads

Of sweat and love on my face

And as you smile

Lips curving again

This time with the airs of satisfaction

Of trust and consent

And as I kiss them, they speak of us.

My memory would tell me to return

[and become a heartbreaker]

For five missed calls later

You would never call me again.

The fourth memory would meet me

Inside the 9:25 local

Screeching and pulling me back

To never enter

For you were sitting there

In the same scent of the first date

The smell of distrust

Of falls and dark nights

Of a girl sitting cross-legged

At the corner

Hiding her face behind the same hardcover

While I never reconsider my decision

Of choosing you

Hairband sliding through the right hand

While you blow a single strand

Of your hair

Making awkward eye moments

Listening to Arijit's and Armaan's

Waiting for me.

My memory would tell me to come a little early

[only if I knew]

And take you back

For the explosion at 9:30

Would shatter two things to pieces

Your body

My heart.

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