I don’t know why 3 A.Ms remind me of your joyously sinful laughter.
I don’t know why my heartbeat plays itself into a painful orchestra of ecstasy and agony, every time I see fingers like yours gripping a car steering the way your graceful ones did.
I do not know why I still look up to see the drivers eyes knowing it couldn’t be you so close to me.
I don’t know why certain songs remind me of your warmth on the tip of my tongue and everything comes flooding back, drowning me in your absence.
I don’t know why I blank out on my pillow just as dawn breaks light, listening to mad music, craving for the sound of your breath in my ears.
I stop searching for you on days I find temporary solace in words I write. I bleed what I feel onto paper then.
But the color grey still reminds me of missing you again.
How I wish I could sprint back to that day in the cold, back to when I met you for the first time.
I’d look at the haven of calm silence in your soft brown eyes. And be home again.
– Shabnam Mondal
Artist At Work Productions 