Carrying your fragrance in my nostrils
I stumble upon my forgotten depth
And it rises within me
Like the ash from funeral pyre of those burnt down dreams
I sit on that flattened stone
I dare not lit the pyre
Though I am the offspring
The left over of that urn
Only tangible leftover among many
that claimed to be fallen from trees
I owe it to you
I owe my desires, my unfulfilled lust to you
I know I will have to answer for my absence
on the day I present myself with dignity
I sit here contemplating if I ought to be here untouched by this fire
that engulfs you for one final time
Do I need to wait
Or do I jump right after you
holding on to your outstretched hand…..
I chose to wait
I know I have to carry this urn longer
For my destroyed chastity needs to be replenished
I have to pass the inheritance onto those shoulders
Mine are getting thicker and heavier with every passing day….
