I will never forget your birthdate,
’cause that’s how we met,
And that meeting led to a series
of giggles, and people looking at
us like we’re cray.

Jumping ecstatistically, laughing so
hard that our shoulders shake
and our tummies ache.
Who knows? May be that day you
walked silently down the street
and I asked you your residence,
was written for us to meet.

I am thankful for that, those
memories after, running behind

trains, saving drowning bottles,
mini-parties after spending our
last reserves, sighing as trains
pass by as we wait for each other.
Hugging at the bridge like that’s
our last meeting, and that’s for
only about a day, phone calls
lasting an hour, and,
those memories,
are endless.
They’ll go on and on,
just like my love for you.
Forever is not a choice, it’s
more of a compulsion. You
have my heart and we
need much more than
wearing shoes compulsorily
because they clack against
the cemented platform and
private coaching institutes in the
train and holding hands and
sleeping on your shoulder
and some more which I
cannot put into words
for how grateful I am
for your birthdate, forever
to go.
Always yours, Love.

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