You said to wait for you.
Truth is, I did.
I stood underneath the arch painted yellow,
in the darkest part of the path,
that branched off into the alley.
It used to be our spot,
as I recall that you first kissed me there,
on my left cheek,
some aeons of memory ago.
I had leaned into one of the columns,
that stood on the right hand side,
bearing the weight of the arch.
The cracks on it wiggled this way and that,
as my numb fingers traced their ridges,
with squirming excitement.
But on this night,
that you said to wait for you,
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me,
to beat time,
back to a much less hasty flow,
so we would have enough to spare.
What for? I could not say,
or if I’m being honest,
I did not want to bring myself to say.
For anticipation rang,
chimed more like,
through the puddle,
that was my insides;
I was your giddy girl once again,
with a heart beating wildly.
I held on to the piece of paper,
with your fancy writing inscribed on it.
I silently worded the promises,
but they mocked me in the bleak light,
the moon offered.
The wind blew harshly,
deep in chastisement,
as though I did something wrong,
like being out late for a lover.
But indeed I was,
Only that this very lover’s actions,
did not always match his words.
I held on to them anyway,
it was all you afforded me,
and I could not bear to see you leave.
I might be all right,
if you chose to leave,
I reckoned.
But it did not seem,
like a choice available to one like me.
For love was a rarity;
deigning to happen now,
simply meant it could never be again,
should this opportunity slip by.
And so I waited beside the columns,
that stood like sentinels.
I slumped against them,
as the skies phased into the night.
I sighed wistfully,
as the moon hid behind sleepy clouds.
Soon enough,
the wind blew through the streets,
with so much vigour,
that I folded into myself for warmth,
and lost the battle for consciousness.
I watched sunrise,
for the first time in my life,
from the mouth of an alley,
instead of the comfort of my room.
The wind stung my eyes,
and tears welled up at its rim.
The noise of feet on the cobbles,
Had my hopes rising shamelessly.
A man walked towards the alley,
and I found myself rushing to my feet,
with energy long lost.
He turned out to be a passer-by,
heading to town.
‘Good morning,’ he hailed.
‘Good morning,’ I mumbled,
And turned away, heartbroken.
