“my soul is a lonely night” – Nayana Nair

every time i found lovei felt as if all my tears have been forgotten. but forgetting is not erasing.it seems i cannot let go of anything that easily. these joys can only shield mefrom what I have suffered for a moment while my soul is a lonely beautiful night,a backdrop for my sadness to dance.Continue reading ““my soul is a lonely night” – Nayana Nair”

“Random Radio” – Nayana Nair

Don’t tell me of your love.Tell me you’ll leave tomorrowand stay a day more.Move an inch closerwhen I take your name.Let me not believe you sometimesand smile when I do.I don’t want love,but I will try to want it,if you try to want me slowly and cautiously.When you put on that random radio stationlet meContinue reading ““Random Radio” – Nayana Nair”

“Moments with a Cold Sun” – Nayana Nair

With each day crossed out.With each dresses, each mask added to the my wardrobe.With each hand that passed into mine,with each hand that moved onto the next too easily,I realized I knew how to dance to this tunethat used to frighten me once. Another stranger,another potential lover,another sun that has already grown cold,whispers in myContinue reading ““Moments with a Cold Sun” – Nayana Nair”

“Turn Your Face to Mine” – Nayana Nair

The light I can always return to- that’s who you are. The darkness I can always sleep in- that’s who you are. An amphibian who moves away from what it will always seek sooner or later, who seeks two things (or too many things) at once; dancing with and writhing in not one but twoContinue reading ““Turn Your Face to Mine” – Nayana Nair”

“Lead me to the same place” – Nayana Nair

The laments shimmer in the borrowed beauty of words someone else made. The pattern my words dance in were laid out by someone else. They lead me to the same place where they have led the people before me- not to change or relief. I don’t think anyone whose steps I am following was lookingContinue reading ““Lead me to the same place” – Nayana Nair”

Proud Blooming

“Small Door of a Dream“, Jacob Glatstein Those trees whose names I never learned Identify themselves at the window With their proud blooming. The night shadows itself On a small joyous lamp. A silvered butterfly dances Into our flickering life Through light of a dream’s Last moment.