Thursday, June 10, 2010

COLLECTING STRANDS OF CONVERSATION

How do I collect conversations


To make as museum out of them?

Heart-broken lovers and estranged ones

Collect tangible, inanimate objects

Which remind them

Of the ones they loved and lost.

But I didn’t have such privileges,

All I have are just broken strands of conversations

That we indulged in everyday

That relieved the strain of our unintelligible lives.

We sat down after each weary day

To leave behind the arduous task

Of attending conferences and meetings

That made decisions which determined

Someone else’s life,

To escape the monotony of our lonely lives

With our wives and boyfriends.

I am so afraid all of it will slip away.

How do I get a box to empty it out?

Those conversations concerning

The most trivial part of our mortal lives,

Of books and music, words and conversations.

And the one in which you told me

That you see my ghosts in alien places,

See me in every girl you come across,

That you have begun to hallucinate my images,

I had smiled, knowing little

How much it would cost us in future years.

So how do I preserve them?

Can you tell me a way?

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