Between pages

“She must have preserved your love like flowers between pages of her favourite romantic novel, for it to have lasted this long. Only difference being, this love is growing, by spreading its roots in words of passion and giving colour to tainted white pages”



Summer hands.

“And each time we held hands, it felt like containing a garden filled with wild summer flowers. And each time we let go, did you feel the pain of clutching onto thorns. Because all you left  me  with is this fragrance, colour and assorted petals of a million summer memories”