Perhaps I go back to the beginning

Perhaps I go back to the beginning

and rename the road

or

erase the memory of destination altogether.

Perhaps I sit at the edge of the river

where water gushes from the unknown

and wash your face

and your gaze

in the thunder of water.

Perhaps I write your name

on a green leaf

and give it to the white pigeon

to take it further where

memory cannot reach.

Perhaps your name is carved

on the green meadows

and can be seen from faraway.

Perhaps you knock at my door one day

and the scent of the waiting words

I thought were erased through time

find their way into the rose garden.

Perhaps I fall in love one summer night

on your rooftop as the breeze is dancing

and the stars are flickering.

but alas!
I know

the story which was once in the making

Is burnt in the chaos of the hot southern winds.

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