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.