December

On the last day of November

December arrives.

Winter com es to my room, touches my 

pale skin with its cold sunshine

My trite hopeful abode for hopelessness

Stays unheard amidst all merry makings.

December holds-

Our memories, My cries, Our love.

Settlements with winter were done.

The crooked sofa cover

The smell of your sweater

Your untouched tangled up earphones

The deadness of all of these kept me warm.

The cold felt warm.

With time-

When the sun rays touches the study table

I see some favourite books piled up

With names of authors standing in a queue 

On the left side.

Each from a different period of time.

Reminds me of the Us , before love annihilated .

As we walked through every moment of time.

With every winter you kept walking away a little further,

I kept recollecting fire from the past to keep me warm.

the yellow rustic pages of the books you left behind,

kept me warm

The songs you wrote to me

did the same.

This December

Let the winter alone be with met

This December

Take my December away with you.