A Fictitious Day

A Fictitious Day



Today it’s different outside, not that clumsy, wet, sullen morning
My wish is to see the same sunset which I witnessed awestruck from my attic,
I catastrophize each day thinking of you far away,
Which way did you come back to my home again...?
Come don’t go! Here I narrate ‘This Day’; so beautiful so charming yet so alone
Lend me your touch one more time so that I take you to my attic still frozen and plundered;

I see the clouds playing the game of shadows with the dying sun, and there a child sitting deserted waiting for his morning run…
I see an old toothless lady dragging herself to the fresh market covered head to toe with age and aye clothes!
I see bunch of daily wagers singing and welcoming Obama it sounds as if their hope touches the surf on Michigan lake shore.

I see an old couple holding hands... They are still in love…

And I see you still shining and bright brushing my lips with yours, teasing me with your fresh stubble, distracting me with your oh so warm hands,
I see your eyes smirk at me but why? Now I know …
You don’t see any one but me, and I behold the truth that you don’t exist to me.

A myth, an illusion, another sunny day…