Sold for 111 million
Would be enough for my few years long vacation
I have no painting to sell now
no moment left for which my heart bleeds
different colors just like those
different wavelength my heart beats.
These colors spring these paintings
my hands shape these
motions, architecture, faces and aura
Yet the signature below these painting
it has become a default in memory of mine
just as his creation of our moments together.
How our journey to Paris as artists started
ending as lovers.
That bright smile on our face
how twinkling our eyes were
when we ran through Notre-Dame Cathedral
like maniacs in search of our favorite
glass panel, bickering over the stories they told
hands held into one the way our souls were united
left unnoticed or feared by me.
How the passerbys looked up to us under the beautiful lights of Eiffel Tower, "perfect couple"
Hidden in an alley way
our first kiss ignited in the dark
away from our hesitant doubts of approval and trust
his shaking hands placed on my face with a tender question.
My afraid mind losing control over my enclosing body.
That was the first and last day
of our across acceptance to the already intertwined heart and soul.
Now he lying six feet deep under the ground
the most peaceful smile tugging across his lips
as if he had conquered the world, "silly".
For me till date I wrench those beautiful memories
out off each cell of my being so as to one day
One day I will leave him be, at rest
and not throw stones in the already raging ocean
But the equally silly me is going after
all those utterly unbelievable things of our to-do-list without him
Still we will live as one in those upcoming paintings
cause I know us, I know him.
