On that winter night, when your purple orchid lay breathless on our bed,
I imprisoned a shadow on my windowsill.
What innate that figure was, how I longed to touch him
I saw him struggle on the thin plank,
We were miles above civilization.
A dash of snow welted his shoulders, a mark I found on me,
A splash of tears drowned clarity, whose I couldn’t see.
The shadow grew darker, as it fell a million storeys
I wilted at the sight,
Your orchid was still at rest.
I knew he wouldn’t return, the orchid he left behind,
I stood to see no one around,
For heaven was a world far too divine.
That night when you were away on unavoidable purpose,
A gust of wind drilled my heart apart.
I knew I counted my last,
I wailed to have you near and hug you tight
For you would remain shadows for me hereon.
I went miles above you
I left your purple orchid on the bed,
For you are to return in some days and not seeing me might pain.
There are words, there are frames, there are little complaints,
Till we meet again, let the orchid breathe in our lane.