Written on 4th April 2017: ( the day when I talked to jyatha for the last time 10 years ago):

The words unsubscribe
the meanings coagulate upon tabula rasa
days of the deluge are gone
when nothingness meets the storm
fondled by a craven destiny
and a trickster’s insecurity
my prayers left us for a vacation.

The words unsubscribe
‘Come here,’ you said.
As if you heard the tinkering of stones
of the bridge they were framing for you
your weary feet reprimanding
the warmth of the antiseptic
luring you to the other side.

The words unsubscribe
cowered by the blood of your stories
and translation
Moaning and writhing
in the epiphany of their sudden death.

The words unsubscribe
Now for a zillion cries
Feeding my loneliness
with a succulent torture
pleasing my tear-glands
and now it’s just our imagined conversations
in a strange, desolate soil
and a phosphorous air
When you will never ever talk to me
For one more time.

#NaPoWriMo  #Day4 #Poem4

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