I remember

I still look back

in my memories

to tell you

that I loved you.

Memories

entwine themselves

on pasts that

will never come back.

A stump of a gulmohar

bursts with hues of

of green and orange

as a creeper

hides its dark

dried bark.

I’ve learnt to

appreciate

Time-

how

she lays the dead

peacefully

in the earth,

how

she lets the dead

come back to life

from the dirt

in which they decayed.

When you told me

that I could be

whatever I wanted

I told Time

that she would not

take you from me

and she understood.

The bees hum

again

over the dead stump,

over new flowers

that bloom

in the red sun.

I no longer see the stump

only moss and vines

flowering prolifically.

When I saw you

for the last time

I knew

it would

be the last time

that you left.

You became a part of me

that will live on

even if I forget.