Where do we hide the memories of a faded love?

Is it in the hallways of our mind where a thousand

others occupied a place unrecalled, neglected and buried?

Is it in the alleys and corridors of time that won’t resurrect

itself even as it echoes from miles away

calling out our name day by day but muffled by distance?

Is it in the hollowed body, calloused by pain,

Embittered by redundant agonies of loosing

but hopeful enough to keep on trying time and again?

Is it in a painted wall where thousand of colors resides

dispersing and redecorating itself to pursue a life

that’s particularly aimless and unmindful of its inhabitants?

Is it in a cracked vase or in an ancient urn for the remnants

where the withered flower and the ashen bones are kept,

a reliquary for the parted, unremembered by the livings?

Or is it in the potted rose that blooms only by seasons

tired of waiting for the rain, wilting in the flame of the sun

blown by the wind, stiffened by the soil and un-scenting in time

Or is it in our hearts pulsing effervescently and eternal

Maybe in our breath, perpetually waiting for a final rest

for it to pale away as sure as the inevitable death…

But when?