Geometry of your memories

Your memories are round

When your gifted tiny globe on my desk

Spins between my restless fingers

Your lip prints on it

Like the conqueror's flag

Mark your conquest over my world

I see through rectangular windows of my home

I reach out to my wasted lawn

Where flowers still smell of your unnatural presence

The sphere moves in my eyes

I look at the lonely moon every night

Waxing, waning, hiding, rising

Like the tides of your love inside me

The flatness of roads

Create an illusion of destination

I keep walking the long unending paths

Those no longer reaching you

However hard I travel them all

Huge minarets taunt me

With their sharp edged arms

Pointing heavenwards

I look at those ancient monuments

Ruined, deserted, fallen, neglected

Stuck in the history of time like me

But quite often, my love

Your memories are

Irregular

Chaotic

I look into the broken mirrors of your eyes

I see myself scattered all over your face