Monday, March 19, 2012

absence

My thoughts scintillate below the raging summer sun—they are minuscule, a flash disappearing in jagged lines. They are of you and to you they are nothing. A longing, I confess, an accidental longing, a mere coincidence of the flesh, a fragile presence. Directionless. I sit and converse with absence.
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2 comments:

  1. OvaisMarch 22, 2012 at 10:31 AM

    I can so relate to this.
    Especially 'They are of you and to you they are nothing.'

    ReplyDelete
  2. Z.March 22, 2012 at 7:06 PM

    Thanks for the comment, Ovais.
    Just a line from the story of our lives. (:

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