All these whispers in my head,
as I walk on the streets -
Looking at the black and white pavements,
talking to you in my thoughts.
Two weeks, and I'm here;
in an empty apartment.
I sat in my balcony,
spreading my hands over the cold tiles -
wondering what made your
black coffee so sweet.
There's a fire here always.
My neighbours would say.
But how can I answer them that,
you've burned bridges here,
turned my heart to ashes.
I gave you everything.
You felt hungry, starved.
And so, you would kiss my neck
every morning -
every night, as the Casio played.
Even on nights, oceans for stars -
you would say,
You taste different from her.
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
