Souvenirs (Nadia)

the other day,
i wandered into the old cafe.
where people sat,
just as i had left them,
too long ago.
sipping their teas and coffies,
heads bent,
swimming in their own waters;
calm, turbulent, voilent and still.
same old people,
yet faces so unfamiliar

the other day
i thought of him…and of them
and of whispers and songs;
embraces and twirls.
intoxicated by the oblivion we shared,
lost in seemingly profound ties,
animated by certainty,
all it took was a puff
by that dragon called fate,
to render those memories.. pale, burnt,
robbed of their vibrant colors.

the other day,
i saw torn pictures in broken frames,
yellow and tattered images,
smiles frozen in time,
eyes glinting with joy long past,
forgotten jokes and tales,
radiance and laughter captured.
deceptive attempts at preserving,
“Here”, “Now”,
to exist as silent moments
that are nothing but dead time.

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