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Tag Archives: word

“The day we held hands” – Nayana Nair

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The silence wrapping our words
was not born out of a deed or two.
Or out of lack of love.
We didn’t wake up one day
and began feeling alone.
the day we held hands
We felt the alieniation
that only love can bring.
No great love can
change what we were.
Where the plains of our own
lives and its insecurities met
there we see a crack,
to remind us everyday
that we never fit with each other.

“All the tones”- Nayana Nair

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If I memorized
all the tones that drifted in from
a world of happiness
we are no longer inhabitants of,
the tones that drip ever so slowly
filling our heart with love
and filling our life with pain,
the tone that ripples through
every word I weigh on my tongue.
all the tones
that resonates in me as the wind passes
through the places in my heart
where your laughter once lived,
all the tones
that separate bird cry and bird song.
I think I would find the song we lost,
the song we sought
that we could never hear
in the noise of our shouts.
And though our love is dead
I would like this song
to have a home to rest.
As for our love,
what is lost is probably
lost for best.

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“Freckles” – Nayana Nair

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There was once a boy
who looked at my freckles
and told me that they were
autumn leaves in winter skies.
That I am a sunset to cherish
and a storm to pet.
Who looked at my words
and told me, that
he could find all the things
he has lost in his life
in my words.
He told me
the day he loses me
he will lose much more than that.

“Screen” – Nayana Nair

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I read my words,
and could only see me, as person
walking on the crowded streets
after spending hours of attention
on a screen that blurred the
alphabets and left in my eyes
the only image of me
looking at this screen forever.
I saw someone
who could not bear life.
I wondered when I became a person
only concerned with knowing
this sadness that breathes with me.
I saw someone who I feared and knew
I would become
or I always was.
I became the living shadow
of the ‘me’ that never was.
I read what I write,
and decided never to read them again.
I see what I am,
and decide not see myself again.

“Pursed Lips” – Nayana Nair

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As I purse my lips,
trying to push back words
that I am afraid are the wrong ones.
I wonder,
stand in awe,
of those gentle souls
who heal so many hearts.
While I fail
to utter any words,
fearing,
not knowing,
what might break them.

“What I do best” – Nayana Nair

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There is a fierce calmness
that holds me together
even when I think
that I will fall apart.
Seems like falling apart
is not that easy
for those who lived in pieces
that they never knew they had.
So I will turn deaf
to the words of love
that presumes that it knows me.
So I will kill time
with preaching words of self-love
that I struggle with everyday.
I will fill myself with the stars above
And I will learn to live
and learn to die.
And wait with dread
for the day I’ll feel complete.
I don’t want to be complete.
I know how to be broken.
Being broken is what I do best.

A Russian Word

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There must be a Russian word to describe what has happened
between us, like ostyt, which can be used
for a cup of  tea that is too hot, but after you walk to the next room,
and return, it is too cool; or perekhotet,
which is to want something so much over months
and even years that when you get it, you have lost
the desire.

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