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by Sampriti BhattacharyyaTug
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What is lost is lost.

The yesterdays are but the

Pebbles I will never fall back upon.


Yet the bygone evenings 

Fall on me like the first

Raindrops on an arid plane.


Everytime I step forward

The yesterday holds me hard,

Kisses on my forehead,

Blows away the dust from my hair,

Licks my pores with edible glimpses,

Slaps my today and tomorrow 


And laying its arm on

My shoulder, whispers

"Why, let's have a cup of tea!"

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