Disintegration

A fallen leaf, in the month of December,
Everyday you wither,
Sitting comfortably in the
inner chamber of my remembrances,
Bereft of light.


Like once,
Under a banyan tree,
we picked and marvelled
at the dry net of brown viens,
of what was once a heart shaped leaf
after the cruel ravishes of time.


You held it against my face, smiling,
Entrapping a moment, a smile
in that transparent heart
Losing itself to the womb of gaea


Now you, a memory, losing flesh,
losing colour, losing life,
Reduced to a bundle of veins,
Clinging loosely to a skeletal frame,
A face behind a withering leaf,
Disintegrating, undone.