Who pierced your heart the deepest?
I beckon you to give me a name.
Said he, “they all did in their striking ways;
When I sigh in melancholy or in pining
I’d fumble on whose name to sigh on.
Thus I let the collective ardour
Weigh on me a while, till I chance
On another who will swell the heap”
Then I search for a bare corner to doodle
My name on his bosom, then an odd
Disfavour settles on my craving.
Could I jar this moment, flavour it
With condiments to hold on
Till it could hold itself.
But perhaps not!
It would turn into a dish far removed
From what we loved enough
To want to hold onto.
I roll away facing the heavens
To look around me, even flowers
Whither to make way for new ones
Dancing in the breeze, basking in the sun
Till Change visits with a sickle in hand.