Tell me...

My dear ex-soulmate

please tell me...

When there is a gathering

Of deceptive sadness

Clogging your feelings

turning it to a damp moist stale slug

Stagnant puddle with larvae of expectations

Possessive fetuses

and a pyre of fake wisdom...

How would I search for you???

I have heard your pages...

Those jewels of allegations,

innocent yet brutal

I took a plunge, mind you...

My hands made way

Right throw the muck bed

Something soft moist vulnerable...

Severed ties are sensitive , delicate

Trying to pick them up would mean

Disintegration of Past...

Tattered longing, wounded egos

laced with dreamland of futile hopes

Their faint heartbeats

and Yes a dark outline of Mistrust

Still, I dug and tried collecting whatever I could

I had to trust my senses while I manuovered my palms to the surface

and I thought I took your Principles with me

The mucky bowl of flesh that my fingers looked like

dripped of soil dry mud, powder like and dusty....

surprisingly...

I heard a faint peacock of values scream

I looked around for colored signs

Stripped off his feathers he tried but fell...

The recognition of green last leaf was plucked, already...

It must have been new and tender

The wound was fresh and tiny

Now, Soulmate...

would you please Ex-plain

How do we face life

be holistic and carry

wordless spring of poems

In our witnessing hearts?

#InBetweenTheLines

- Prajakta Sathe.