Untitled - 5

Words are flying out
of worlds
into air;
the table lamp shines
out their existence.

They hang like speckles
of dust in mid-air
they swirl with each turn
of the shadows
in the distance.
(The room is made in wood.)

They linger like
foam before it
melts, they stay
like love after it dies

And they fall upon
the chatai
joining layers of
memories left from
new and old feet
and lovers
and cold feet.

-X-

I ask them for their company,
I ask them to stay awhile.
I ask them to hold me
in the darkness.

To keep my sorrows
Unfurl my joys
(Like God himself)

Like blotted whitepaper
that reeks of old love,
and old hope;
I ask them to remind.

-X-

Words, they never disappoint.