Some notes i had written for somebody.today morning i found them on my coffee mug drowned in cold water ...with a dead moth and dry leaves that come flying through the kitchen window.
they were written with gel pen .and so the writing remained intact.that bittersweet feeling again.
i tried to look for some symbolism..but none came to my mind.i took a picture instead.
Tissue Paper tears
Pale white mornings
Sometimes a dry finger of desire
runs up my spine
Sometimes its all empty corridors
All grey steel n concrete
Kill each other with arrows oblique
tear the news papers covering your heart
and catch your sighs from the hollow
i want you to
get choked on burnt ash.
and wring them for a drop of water
to hear with me at midnight
the constant drone of the machines
i want you to know
an insect on your neck
leaves sweat on my palms
on bitter cold mornings.