Poetry comes rolling out of my pursed lips like smoke curling under the door. Somebody’s going to get burnt soon.
“You don’t care, you don’t care!” she shouts into his ears. Pain is a drug that unites them. Right now, they’re too broke for anything else.
She said your love is an old mattress. It’s comfortably molded to me. But it’s too heavy to carry. So she took her pillow and walked away.
Two months ago, I did an ecommerce shopping run to replenish my summer wardrobe. I checked out all the Indian sites I could find, with the most advertised ones at the top of the list. Of these, Myntra left me far from satisfied. Their courier was delayed, discourteous and told me ‘to keep exact cash ... Read More
Pretty notions, like faint moisture on her hands in the sunlight, glistened, refracted and vanished into thin air.
The memory of him clings to the tips of her hair, like the first rain that they got caught in, inadvertently.
The first was a warrior; he broke my heart to pieces The second an artist; he sculpted them into beauty with knife cuts The third was a trader; he bought passion for sympathy The fourth was a realtor; he cleaned up and then sold out And finally, I was left with an empty, newly refurbished ... Read More
Intimacy in brief, blinding flashes, like light reflecting off a knife’s edge, between our cold, hard selves.
Memories. His, thunder through her mind just like his footsteps when she was asleep. Hers, splash onto his eyes, making them water.