What if, I die?

What if , I die a silent death,

lying close to you…

precisely in your arms?

A slumberous death

with phantasmagoric images

of the other world.

 I want to know

how you would react

seeing my lifeless body

by your side.

Won’t you feel the cold

of my hands,

won’t you caress me again ?

Won’t you whisper my name

into my ears?

I want to feel

your tears rolling down

your cheeks,

making their way

through your lips

and tumbling down

on my face.

The one saline drop-

a replica of your totality.

A drop that encompasses

all of you.

I want to treasure that.

And how would you mourn

while they make me lay

in the coffin?

Would you make your agony explicit

or gulp it down

and burn within?

Would you look at my photographs

and yearn your beings with me?

Would you secretly kiss them

and place them in your chest pocket?

I want to hear

the silent echoing of my name

in your heart.

And when you shall visit my sepulcher ,

would you dust off the tomb stone

and run your fingers on it-

the same way you do

when you feel my body contour?

How will your touch, then feel like?

I want to explore it!