At this hour, what is it that is keeping you awake?
Whose memories are stirring currents in you?
Or, are you awake to read this?
Why i am awake at this hour?
I am painting ; on my pillow i draw an outline of her face
She might be reading this
i couldn't say anything to her,
but i am free to mention her
When my eyes used to be heavy,
she would put me to sleep and it
used to be the last voice of my day,
and also the first
Now, eyes are heavy, teary and cloudy enough to not be able to read what i have written before sealing it into an envelope,
but not mailing anywhere