There are two wooden chairs
One on each side of the table
That is set beside the window
Which overlooks the forest
Of dreams and aspirations
That had been woven
Together
As we sat and sipped our tea
Our impressions are still there
Little prints of fingers
Not very apart
The stain of the spilt tea
That greased my dress
Exists as a reminder
Of the days that have gone by
Days that won’t return, ever
Of conversations that breezed out
Of the framed orifice in the wall
I now see you living
In that forest of dreams
Happier than you were
On other side of the table
I still sit here
Staining the table
Hoping you will return
But you have met more people
Beyond our framed wall
You might not have erased me
I might flicker in your mind
When you hold that hot glass
And wince before burning your tongue
I remain sipping the tea
With memories to hold on to
Which I won’t let go of
Ever
It keeps me alive.
Inspired by a photo taken by a friend.
