“the constant part of love” – Nayana Nair

i remember your hands and their warmthlike i rememberthe versions of methat were easier to live with (or so i think).the colors, their unnatural brightness,the scent of acetone always lingeringon the tips of your fingertips,always hiding a sad rainbow (just my type).always a star that you forgot to rub and break,shined on your skin.under myContinue reading ““the constant part of love” – Nayana Nair”

“Absolutes” – Nayana Nair

From my grip I lose yet another word- now alien to my lips and life. From the corner of my eyes, I watch it die the same death as me. Now the stories I told myself have become a little more unreasonable, when the words and ideas that I took as absolute turned out toContinue reading ““Absolutes” – Nayana Nair”