Departing memories

Inspired by this post by Braja

The fading splash
of the amorphous
sindoor,
the limp,
descending
tresses
protecting
a rushing hot teardrop;


She
pulls her palloo
further
over her forehead,
closing in,
guarding fiercely
her memories....

In her heart of hearts
he never left;
In the bloom of a flower,
the fragrance of milk
slurped by a child,
a lamp lighting a prayer,
and
the music of the wind
traipsing
through the reeds,
he is always there...