I was the one, whom she says, That she would love through eternity The one who lived in her heart Like a drop of water meant for sea. I am settled in her heart like The dust lives in road’ grooves I am the one, as she says, All her previous lives boons. While sitting hand in hand over the shore, I look above, when she asks While trying to gather the words she says And try to find ‘similes’ in stars. But, in those poor normal stars I can’t see those ‘lovely things’ And stand for hours in front of glass To search the love she sees in me. Now, though I pour flowers over her grave Deaf to the heart that beats below the stone, I can’t find tears running down my cheeks ‘cause… I don’t think I ever love her.