Sun

blasts phantoms

of the night

 

shades of

yester year.

 

Travelling to

travelling from;

 

sky so blue

it hurts my eyes.

 

We are strangers,

once so close

 

close as love birds,

story tells that one

 

dies without

the other

 

but

 

that’s not true.

 

I’m here,

swaying

to palm music

 

while you succumb

beneath ordinary

 

life.

 

Time

is not

on our side

 

& all the clichés

in- between

 

gather force

to haunt me.

 

Travelling to

travelling from

 

we are

nothing but,

 

strangers.