Category Archives: ...

breathing.

coughing.
unwilling to cover my
face, though i’m
breathing in someone.
it somehow seems disrespectful
to cover the
holes through which
i breathe, as the
smoke of the
dead surrounds
me.
i’ve been here.
when you were
breathing.
five years ago.
watching a fire
burn for the
first time,
we covered our
noses, our mouths,
not knowing what
to do.
instead of watching,
we found ourselves
retreating.
then two years
later, just me
here again, still
unable to feel,
yet seated,
unmoving for [...]

how lucky they

that should have
been us,
three, sitting in the
courtyard, you being
fed by her,
me shooting
photos until the
battery died or the
camera card
was full.
instead, i watch
them through the sunglasses
that hide the
tears that flow,
flowing because i’m
writing about the
moment that
she
died.
and there they
are, where we
should be,
enjoying a quiet
lunch together,
as a family
of three. [...]

someone once wrote,

someone once wrote,
“”without our bodies we cannot love,” someone once wrote.”
bullshit, i thought,
as i prepared to
write about
the now body-less love
that fills my mind, and
keeps vivid the
memories of a
distant past.
though the body
is gone,
i can feel it,
that love that two
someones implied
i cannot.

breath,

breath, the cover says.
with an old,
wrinkled, five rupee
note as a bookmark,
i flipped to
where i last stopped.
and there it
is, the one that
will help me
write what
i need to write.
sometimes i need to
read the confessions
of another before
i can type
my own.

 

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