Mariam

The first time they (actually) met, he told her he'll name his child Mariam,

Like the Mariam Khaled Hosseini wrote about,

Like the Mariam he calls his summer romance whose name he can't take,

Like the Mariam he wrote poems about,

And even with an abundance of Mariam, it was never enough.

And this Mariam of his wore red on the day they met for goodbyes,

Because she didn't believe in endings,

And red was all about loving,

And never about leaving,

Because leaving is never enough,

Staying is.

This Mariam of his thought of him as yellow,

Like the summer they met, like the sunshine he was made of,

Yellow, like the hope he found in the last pages of his favourite book.

Because people like him are like a gush of a cool breeze on a hot summer day,

You keep searching for but can never keep.

Because people like him think of

Words as weapons,

Songs as comfort zones,

Love as a war and

Sunsets as goodbyes,

And this Mariam of his keeps wearing red

Because it was never about leaving,

It was always about loving.