Of what we need
Deprived of a touch desires languish,
my love desolated in a drought of emotions
slowly wither, a lone flower in a neglected garden-
And what is it that I miss?
This life filled with opposing notions
always seeking a soul matched in heavens
lost along the way, my will hardened
into a shell of finality, a dry river
flowing into a sea of desperation-
I lost my way,
somewhere between my first cry
and her last kiss,
a broken piece left behind in the sway
of waves caressing my body
while I’ll dream of her,
somewhere between her last goodbye
and my last breath-
“No, I don’t miss you… Not in a way that one is missed.
But I think of you.
In the way that one might think of the summer sunshine
On a winter night…”
― Sreesha Divakaran,