i cannot, when you have been here. i decide to gather the fallen leaves again. but it doesn't work like that. there are memories scattered everywhere in this house.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
hands
on an evening
when the skies
broke down
so i could
go down on my knees,
you became my umbrella
night came in purple drops
that have become
patches under our eyes
we sought each others' hands
like only women do
when they need reassurance
maybe the memory of it
finally put me to sleep
when the skies
broke down
so i could
go down on my knees,
you became my umbrella
night came in purple drops
that have become
patches under our eyes
we sought each others' hands
like only women do
when they need reassurance
maybe the memory of it
finally put me to sleep
Monday, July 2, 2012
Mornings
I'd forgotten how beautiful monsoon mornings are. When you wake up to stories about flooding, landslides and crashes, you wake up in fear.
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