No latch on the door

This then is a goodbye
Like one I never said before
Trailing whiffs and traces of you
Your walk through the door

Hey listen
Where will be consigned the affections
Revealed over that drunken spree
They are all yours for ever
Those bits and pieces of me

You could make anecdotes of them
Or, store them in the attic of the mind
Occasionally look at the acquisitions
Allow yourself smiles
Of the satisfied kind

When the taste of the blood runs cold
The flavours of amusement are insipid
Come back to me for more
There is no latch on the door

~ Cashmeeri ~

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