There is something about goodbyes,
and how they float along holding hand with the wind,
sieve through the mesh of the window frame
tickling and teasing the wind chime, that still sings to the tunes
of washed sunrise, a subtle overtone of silver
lining; under grey hues and numb heartbeats.
There is something about goodbyes,
and how they become theme parks of glum and cold
playing peek-a-boo with streams in the eyes
running southwards, over the curves of the lips
before cascading into oblivion; unfinished
art and half- baked stories and screams inside the head,
and deafening silence on the outside.
There is something about goodbyes,
and how they fill designer jars with nectar of pain
I devour each day, at the slightest mention of you,
a teaspoon full of Valium with a dash of methane mixed
in the midnight coffee; love and addiction permeate into
my rib cage through crevices of collarbones,
making the heart their domicile.
You see! that’s the thing with goodbyes;
they make permanence of loss and pain look
like cosmic intervention of silver halides
making positives out of negatives inside the darkroom.
Is there a way to cut chords with those goodbyes?
from every ridge and curve of my body.
May be! May be, not!
