you will find me,
soon
on the third big rock
near the fountain’s
ledge
between the
mulberry and
hibiscus shrubs
listening to music
we once
imagined both
our lives to.
blue neighbourhood
you,
who was the daughter
of moonshine
sat with a
child of the rainbows
absorbed
the sound of
both of our
remorse
and went to sleep
after meeting me
in this blue
neighbourhood
on an evening
of sipping
tea between
rainstorms
you
who turned into
starlight in the distance
before the cloudburst
could dry up
after sharing a sunset
with me once
you,
who made the sky
bend her knees today,
became a whisper
in her ear
with flowers in your
fingers
poetry
on your lips
bled indigo
into the earth
and stitched a
knot on the
back of time
before
running into streets
my legs can’t
carry me to anymore
you,
who wished out loud once
that your name meant
all the beauty
that this world had to offer
you,
whose memories will now
become that
you,
whose eyes
held heartache
you,
who promised me
another evening of tea
without the rainstorms
you,
who will now be there
every evening as the rainstorm.
rest in power, samidha.
PARTH RAHATEKAR
