Kanha...when you left

The days were such that you left not to return
I was left just with shards of poetry piercing my memories
Days, good old days of laughter, mirth and tears
Tears of joy, tears of love and tears of the blue bangles
I broke...
You promised me green...
The green of the trees...
Of the grass where we lay...
That heaven of senses...
Your hand playing harp on my being
Every touch musical, every string resounding with ecstasy...
Now the opium of your touch
Feeds my imaginations...
Kills me slowly and leaves me empty...
Now green bangles don’t mingle with the rains,
Don’t tinkle with anticipation
Simply cling to my wrists,
Calmly submit to his touch and not even make a sound
My bangles have lost their tinkle
My poem has lost its lyrics
My monsoon has lost its green
My pale eyes mourn
The death of our togetherness
Alas am left with no more bangles to break
To shatter the myth of your being
And convince myself of the loss....