Less of you and each sunset
Takes away a little more.
Today, seems I've forgotten
Your nose.
A faint memory of what it
Looked like remains-- But I'm not sure.
I can't recall if it was pierced or
What kind of nose ring you wore.
Sometimes I wonder about
The strands of hair you often
Slid behind your left ear.
Did you really do it or it's just
A memory of you fused with
Bollywood cliches-- I don't know.
It's the entirety of your face
These days and I'm confused about
The spelling of your name-
Whether it should come with
'i' after D, or 'ee' - I don't know.
What a disgrace.
It's not seamless. Recalling,
Demands deliberate efforts.
It's like sketching your image
And the artist becomes less
Skillful after each try.
The mistakes keep increasing
And the need to mend bad strokes,
Wears down the paper sometimes.
And this distance between you
And me widens like lengthening
Of our shadows against the setting sun-
The darkness ultimately feeds on it
Into forgetfulness and the sun
The next day brings a little less.
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