The Leaf You Say

Through her veins 

percolated the water,

through mine, I received hers.

I would see her sway towards me

when she fluttered in the august wind.

Through her greens', she colored her love,

through mine I radiated hers.

In this monsoon, 

I would sit on the very end of the branch

soaking both of our share of rain. 

She hid behind the mangoes

barring me to see.

In our ways, we romanticized the yellow,

satiating our desire for a union.

The loyal ties to our roots,

the forlorn summer days-

ours was a love distanced by life.

In dismay with approaching autumn 

I urged to die.

For my life kept us away.

So for the one last time,

I saw her through the dew drops-

her faded green draped around her shrunken surface, 

she revel the distance, and embraced the tree 

but to only fall apart

pulled off the green, to break it down

into hues of brown.

And autumn they say,

brought less love and heritage 'the end'.

So I fell below the Mango tree

on whose end she lived green.

She too came to my dead.

And in a senseless beautiful world, we met.

An association of twosome fertilizers-

our death, our home.

Romance more red than the Spring's 

Chills, colder than the winter would have allowed

and livelier than the sunny day 

Our world coming into one on that lifeless hay.

And when the cold autumn breeze

rubbed apart our heart

the leaf you say,

fell on me to stay.