Afternoon

Anticipating life with a mid January afternoon-

Laying on a carpet that smells like a broken earthen pot,

A book of letters beside me

that narrates the failures of a very successful artist.

One sad song from the 90s

mingling with the smell of fresh coriander on the fish curry being cooked next door

stops by my window.

This town like my life is so small

I can hear them all at once,

 in one syllable.

Contemplating life with a mid January afternoon-

I have always taken Love as a debt,

composed stories of (un)faithfulness,

held back recording the erosions that come with seasons of grief,

left the beautiful decays of experience unnoticed.

Afternoons are of phantom existence

They bring a lot of Silence which takes you to places.

Mostly edges-

from there you F

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