“Flower” – Nayana Nair

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I pluck one leaf at a time
from this flower, this script
my life is.
I throw them from bridges
on cold evenings.
I bury them in the soil
that soils their print with time.
I burn them to ashes,
so they won’t smell the same.
I hang them on trees
that will never bear fruits.
To leave this story of mine
everywhere and nowhere.
So that you may find it.
So that you may not find it.
But
I wear the last page, last leaf
with only one word, you name, written,
on my finger
as substitute for you hands
that I can no longer hold.

2 Comments

    1. I am not sure , sometimes it is the memories I am forgetting, I see them living outside me…sometimes it is just a part of me which I loose with every breath or tear. It varies from time to time. But what is common is it is a part of me, a part of the story I have lived so far.
      I don’t think I am making much sense. 😦

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