Frame

The pictures

that you took last winter

and the years before,

I left my

fingerprints on them,

All this while

did you happen to notice?

that i haven't rubbed them off!

There were some pictures

that I stole

from your neighbours,

some I stole from stories,

In all

you searched for me.

Still

there are others

that you put on your walls

many swaying under weight

Of them

some I had played with once.

In this

museum of memories

I have often mixed my pictures

and left them alone to speak

Only that, they

never heard from you.