We endured endings,
even before it formed a name
in the lips of curious observers.
Wakeful midnight conversations,
revealing vulnerabilities that
disclose semblances all too familiar;
drawing ‘patterns’ in spaces
only we can understand;
basking in each other’s outré selves,
as we tread on delicate lanes;
conversations that sometimes
result in sporadic silences
that are all too loud to ignore;
But ‘every time’ we come
full circle, don’t we?
So, on certain summer nights
when it is raining,
and you feel sad and lonesome,
I’ll be somewhere staying up and
writing poems for you.