From the winter window
melting with human heat
in a strange city brimming with nameless life
I watch two people ensconced wearing each other's bodies
like warm cardigans, twining their fingers like knitting needles
It's the festival of love, as love can be seen
plastered on walls of restaurants,
malls and the community hall in pink
sealing the deal in sales
or doled as discounts.
While in this part of my weary world,
these two speak to a civilization
Torn by bombs, fractured by barbed wires
My lonely eyes capture the postcard greeting they give to the world
On a moonless night lit by silent street lamps.
Sipping slowly from my favourite mug with a happy picture
He gave on one such Valentine's day
I wonder,
Why do photos save moments
that will be forgotten?
As tears trickle down my face
I realize that I now prefer my coffee salted
as my tongue gets used to the taste of
wet memories.
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