I stopped waving back awkwardly as I realized time wasn’t waving at me.
His eyes were fixed upon memory who danced with each little neuron, delaying present synapses. A warm sip of tea sends the two of them astray. Hand in hand, they sway to & fro upon nostalgia blinking once in a while so they can memorize each other. Their touch is the shiver that runs down my spine. Each time their breath mingles my heart tilts its head slightly to get a better view, forgetting the beat he just missed. Time gets down to his knees, finally ready to settle the score with the maiden of his dreams. He promises her a throne in the chamber of arteries and veins, a garden of her own where heart and his beat often take long, rhythmic walks. Suddenly, her eyes are welling with tears. She throws herself a little bit too dramatically over him and soon dusk brings in Melancholy, her long lost sister. Memory begged time to stay because without him, her existence would mean nothing. She’d rather burn down the temple by his side than secluding herself to some corner beside the heart. She chose death over eternity. Melancholy overshadowed the two mismatched lovers who can never belong. So, they defy past, future and present to remain in sync.
Time used to visit her each evening, then it got reduced to weeks and months and years but he came eventually as she waited patiently for the halcyon daze, the momentary glaze. However, something’s not right; she finally begins to realize. Even though they see each other, a spark between the two is gone. Memory is washed down the lone chamber where the beat sings like the ticking of time.
Upon losing her he finds love all over again. Now, time and future swing to and fro upon apprehension. Melancholy arrives, late as usual.