I was the one, whom she says,
That she would love through eternity
The one who lived in her heart
Like a drop of water meant for sea.
I am settled in her heart like
The dust lives in road’ grooves
I am the one, as she says,
All her previous lives boons.
While sitting hand in hand over the shore,
I look above, when she asks
While trying to gather the words she says
And try to find ‘similes’ in stars.
But, in those poor normal stars
I can’t see those ‘lovely things’
And stand for hours in front of glass
To search the love she sees in me.
Now, though I pour flowers over her grave
Deaf to the heart that beats below the stone,
I can’t find tears running down my cheeks
‘cause… I don’t think I ever love her.