Our story

Is the breathing example

Of the epitome of love

And devotion,

They say.

That I loved you with all my being

That I was the tune to your flute

That you were the tinkle to my bangles

That you were my breath

That we were each others'

Entire being

And soul.

Our playdates

Are the stuff of their worship

Our eternal abode, Goloka

Is the highest form of liberation

They can attain.

For love doesn't constrict.

It liberates.

Which is probably why I

Never felt you left me, Krishna.

You were and are with me

In me

For me

For eternity.

I wonder if

It is their story that has shaped us

Or we who have shaped their

Eternal story.