Lost Time Regained

The palace fell
You felt
The tremors of the earth forever
Piercing you every now and then
In the hollows of this sad metropolis
Devoid of the smell of fresh cinnamon

Years passed as your den’s air
Stale with the scent of unwritten books
Your hair dense with misplaced memoirs
Falling one by one invisibly

Until much later I saw you once more
Sipping single malt alone with a pile of papers
The traffic lit you occasionally
You continued to whistle
While your pen scribbled across the evening

I held your face in my mirror
As you recited verse after verse
Watching you reborn I shook hands again
Your arms smelling of ittar from a few centuries ago
Your eyes fresh with lack of sleep
Your words floating across eras carelessly

Lost time was your textbook
You held it close to you while crossing bridges
Between this moment and the next

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