Closure

I kept thinking that something was not right.
It was the nagging feeling that you get when you think you're forgetting something,
something you shouldn't be forgetting.

Every time I imagined
your hair, that was strangely so much like mine,
falling in lose waves like a mulmul dupatta held against the wind,

your jabber in 5 languages, never fewer,

your eyes, unashamed and talkative.

Every time I thought of
of you giving in to laughter, the way the sky breaks out in thunder,
your words finding their way to my vocabulary,
your thoughts merging with mine as smoothly as a train changes tracks.

And every time I was reminded of
your continuity,
your rhythm,
your eloquence
and your stumbling grace,

I only thought of what was missing.

Turns out,
I just owed you poetry.