The place where they met,
Pour out like sand from bottle,
Dipping a hole in it,
Covered again,
By the love.

Hauntingly tear stricken faces,
Raindrops that seemed like spherical,
Beautiful vulnerable faces,
That was oblivious to the picture.

There was this sea of empty bottles,
Where you used to put love letters,
Imagining words written fiercely,
For hidden passion.

Still indescribable,
It floated among waters,
Engraved with tulips and lilies,
Everything from white to white.

Your fingers itself,
Lighted candles to burn off papers,
After folding into boats of memories,
Which was gone by the currents of winds.

Only one story,
Repeated centuries over and over again,
Yet it remained as poignant as possible,
Yet it was unbreakable.

Till the end,
Everyone remembers,
When she writes,
Scent of salty breeze and lilac paper mixed,
Her bottle still laid somewhere there.