Kismat, that was what it was.
Fate.
I left his hands shivering.
I knew we could never see each other again.
As his parents pulled him away from me, like I was tuberculosis.
I remember the one word, he said
"Kismat".
I fought my tears and my desired heart cried like a tired child for that one fond look.
When I love,
I leave no stone unturned.
And as I remember the man who taught me love,
I realize that our love was like the creeping vine which withers when it has nothing to embrace.