Mnemosyne

An evanescence of time ,

A flash of green here ,

And a splash of turquoise right about there; 

A glimpse of violet infused with an amethyst hue ,

A remnant of marine here ,

A wisp of azure and an Amaranthine gradient .

"The lights are spectacular tonight" , whispered the girl:

Eyes alight with the purest and holiest of colours ;

Breath fogging ,

Cheeks flushed ,

And eyes blooming with the sheer effort of denying oneself of even a fraction of a second -

Of drinking in that beauty ,

Of committing it to memory .

Almost as if memorizing something never again to be seen ,

Never again to be chronicled in the memoir of time itself ,

As if those colours would never again be the same ;

Infused a quantity of another that could never again be perfected :

Coalescing into patterns never again to be etched into the fabric of the universe ;

Never again to become or an entity as a whole-

Never again to appear so singular as the moon ; a sojourner traveling by his lonesome.

Perhaps it is true what the heart feels 

A sense of efemerality,

An intuition suggesting that this instance 

This very ripple in the stola of time is fleeting ;

And that the heart , destined to discover lacuna where that one pleat in an infinite garment has made its abode ;

In that brief instance of our life that was concentric to that wondrous spark, that occurrence .

Nothing is so fleeting as bare beauty in all its glory .desiderium

And that is why beauty is so unnerving , love so painstakingly desirable and memory so surreptitiously eternal

~Ananyaa Joshi