Remember the words,
Blown through the afernoon gust,
that blew the strewn leaves?
At the call for prayer,
He had read an ode to God

Stolen glances on the dance floor,
Half-a-smile through flickering lights,
Melting eyes sing a song,
Moist hands lead the way,
Down the garden path

Silences make such vivid memories,
Their colours so intact,
Their smells so near and fresh,
Their words so loud and clear,
Their tears so wet with prayers

Vision darting through dark alleys,
Head spinning; world, a whirling gust on an an empty landscape,
Of memories gnawing at the lyrics of a song,
Threshing it; clothes for a walk in the park

She sat there stoic,
Eyes lowered, lips quivering,
Hands clasped in a shivering grip,
Listening to the silence in the room,
Scared,
As he stood soaking the stillness,
For one last time

Soaked in listlessness, huddled in dark spaces,
She lifted a strand of hair off her face,
Eyes half-shut,
They dreamt a dream unseen, unforgiving