...

Had I not left that day,

I would have known the color of your face,

if I had stayed,

I could have seen,

the tinge of earthen red on your face,

or sky full of blue in your gaze.

Had I not left,

I would have seen how your fingers

grip my hand,

If had stayed I could have seen,

the night

in the black of your eyes,

or maybe some stars lighting your face.

I would have seen you pacing up and down

with anger,

I would have seen you quite in one corner,

or joyous and bird like,

or maybe,

intently starring at my face.

But the moment passed,

for me like years,

gathered in a photocase,

glossed with some smiles,

some wishes and some tired sighs.

And I relaised I had stood there

all that while,

I had never left

the place.