In these moments of solitude
when thoughts fill up the mind
in between puffs of smoke,
I remember, I remember... something of you.
Then again that thought passes into oblivion.
Like the echoes
that reflect in an empty room waiting to be filled,
like when they fade away,
your voice fades away in a similar manner.
I wonder why the soothing feels so unsettling.
Perhaps, perhaps it is I who forgot to take
another puff of you while there were
still seconds left in the clock of eternity.
The writer is a wannabe scholar studying at
Notre Dame University Bangladesh