🎈|His presence was a blend of his absence|

His voice, his smell, his presence,
Knocked the door again last night,
I was lying on my bed and looking through,
The dream, the imagination and the reality.

He called my name again and again,
He whispered then when I didnt react,
I was listening to him through silences,
Of the past, the present and the future.

His essence traveled through my room,
I could again smell his perfume,
The smell that was a merger of the smell,
Of his breath, his skin, his entire being.

I could hear his footsteps,
I could hear him talk,
I could see his hands moving,
And explaining me things,
The things I want to forget,
The things we never talked about,
The things that are past,
And shouldn't ever be told,
His presence was a blend of his absence,
His memory, his departure, his broken promises.

Medhavi
21.08.15

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