Smoke

I trapped smoke between the pages of a book
And started calling it Our Book.
I shut it tight
Held firm within warmth of my palms
And clasped it close
To my heart
Setting desires aflame
Again.

I open it once in a while
To catch a whiff
of your brand of cigarette.
It keeps getting weaker,
The whiff
And so, I blow
Smoke
of my own.

I light another,
Smoke another,
Stub another,
On your favourite page
‘Neath your favourite quote
Like a signature
Establishing collective memory rights.

I stubbed away the name of the poet
Poetess.
I am all you should read
Process
Admire.
Don’t remember the written verse.
Remember the meaning I added to it
By reading it aloud
By the look in my eyes
By the need to make you understand
My need to be understood
Even if through borrowed words.
Stubbing
Is extinguishing one
Igniting another.

Read me
In verse,
In body,
But not in mind.
In mind, my mind,
You exist as chaos
Cacophonous chaos
The fumes of which
I’ll hope to trap
In my book some day.

And that book, my love,
Read with your favourite pack of smokes.
Stub them against all pages you like
For what you like
Would be too close for comfort.
Erase all you hold too dear
And hence fear
Being trapped along with it.

But this time,
You won’t be able to stub my name away.
For anonymity can’t be erased.
Anonymity, lives on, anonymously.

You live
In the smoke caught between some pages.
I live,
In the anonymous eternity that loved and loves you.

 

(Featured Image – Tumblr)

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