Deeds and Deals

The pages have turned yellow
But the smell lingers.
Sandalwood, just as I remember it—
Fresh as if made into paste
Just three minutes ago.

It was a life I lived,
A reality I burned—
Simply erased from the pages before,
Tossing them into seven garbage bags
The pick up truck lifted on a Wednesday morning.

And then it was gone.
Seven years of crazy,
But was it really?
I’m still here—remembering
Writing about a past life
So layered that no matter
47 degree Celsius and the heat of Delhi
The summer can’t strip me naked
No; not fully
Not all the way down to my soul
They say: Lucifer and I,
We struck a bargain.
Remembrance for the soul.

Now,

You know why I’m still here.