11 Feb 2016
Strangers and Lovers
from the table afar
beckoned by a brief glance
she smiled at him;
a moment so joyful
it effaced all time,
all the years
and every minute
they parted for
a fate so cruel
they part every time
if they meet as lovers;
a destiny so kind
their paths cross
as if bound to,
if strangers
they pretend to be
so they vowed
in whispers quiet,
silent and unspoken,
that they shall
meet as strangers
so familiar
they need not utter a word
but yet
she was afraid
if he has brought along
the past –
a bittersweet secret
that only they
(she and he) know
but his hands were bare
bare as the agony
of a longing
that still burns,
a longing
that they never let
to their fingertips
or the unkissed lips
at midnight hour
the day before
he walked through
the stooping corridors
of time
through the burlesque
labyrinths of memory
through the crumbling
walls of dreams
and hurled
into the deepest woods
that precious secret
at dawn
as it lay frozen
in a stray nest
a squirrel stopped by
and ate it fine
the restless eagle
finished the remains
so his hands were bare
he doesn’t need carry
the weight
of the time gone by
he can now see it all
in her eyes
which, with one glance,
melt both
the dreams that were
treasured in the past
and memories
of this evening
he will take to the grave
he smiled, too
but said not a word
for, what if
it will, yet again,
invite the wrath
of the brutish fate
she stood up
and briskly walked out
before even her fragrance
could waft along
his bearded cheeks
minutes later
as the fumes
of unshared coffee
felt the two empty chairs
all one could hear
was the deep sigh
of two hearts
that belong
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