we were sitting on the same bench but on different ends like the two ends of the road, like the uncertain depth of the ocean, like the poles. no interwined hands, no stories to tell and no poems to blow each other apart. we talked until the pauses between our sentences became longer than the religion of colors we always followed. now, we were left with no paint in our hands, with wailing roses and with torn pages. An empty canvas, empty pages and empty us. may be, time was all we needed and time was all we never had. Share stories of #lasttimewhen something memorable happened. #collab #YourQuoteAndMine Collaborating with YourQuote Baba
