Behind and Beyond a Travelogue

Dust swirling in the path of ray
reminds me you went to the sea,
and I wasn't the companion.

Then, I forget much. Was it me?
Let's correct a memory.
Let's take that train.
Let's ride that bus,
get drunken on Feni.
Was it me? Was it me?

On one Saturday we run,
take the leap, and the journey
takes something away from us.
Distance between? Proximity?
A sparrow that has, mistakenly perhaps,
sat on my index finger as if
we all make a movie and not as an artist
but the still life cut outs.