shadows have stories
of who was here
and then left
the patch of warmth
where you sat
where i sat
where we sat
nursery rhymes of pat-sat-mat
faded yellow
bits of brown
an old leaf
you picked while walking
and a rose
why always a rose
you don’t even like roses
it’s the wild raat ki raani you love
around which shadows sit
late into a moonless night
not a word
tongues cut and thrown
they will grow words
in the flower beds lining
the wall
words of assurance
of presence
but for now
let the mouths be gashes
and eyes oration
look
your country is bloated with
bodies
bombing does that
lovers died
so did soldiers
did the soldiers die before love
or did the soldiers walk over love
who cares-
in the dark
you can’t see there are
homeless people
lining the refuge
smelling the same
stench
of your rejection
bloated lives
floating in dead waters
we drink death’s waters
             to live
perhaps
survival
is
mandatory
with lungs refusing to stop
expanding
you should have written
long letters to her
it would have saved her
from losing her words
she is speaking to you
but you can’t hear her
that’s what longing does
to words
fragmented beings
of amputated language
words split in halves
and quarter halves
till when she opens her mouth
only a sigh escapes
         barely
perches itself
longingly on a tree
a vacant cloud
a shadow’s restless self
sip your cardamon chai
before the bunkers open
shadows march
trees fall
sighs fade
apologies fade
letters lie in piles
sip…
slowly

before dusk 

…

Dee is from lahore. loves old trees, words and surreal nights~