Hoarding Memories


I hoard memories
The ride in the crowded bus
Holding you not to fall
Wading through the flooded street
On a rainy day
With your stole on head
And our fingers entwined
I hoard memories
For they are divine
On a cosy cushion
The shredded chicken
And a finger-licked feeding
To steal one tiny glance
Her perilous journey all through
I paint all with green
Making them unpassé
Prisoningin in the sanctum of present
I hoard on and on
Marvelling at the enormity of their beauty

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