Wednesday, February 4, 2009

The moon

We don't talk anymore.
Distance and time
Have taken it's toll.
Your face has faded
Long back,
Your words have lost their sheen,
By repeated reminiscence.
You are no longer,
Constantly in my thoughts.
I don't miss you
These days.

Yet, the other night,
I saw a brilliant silver moon,
And caught myself wishing,
That you see it too,
I imagined a tug,
From the otherside of the night,
Making myself believe,
That I was in your thought.
© 2009 Rituparna Das

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