Dancing Lessons

In the quiet solitude of midnight,

Bare footsteps tread softly on rose petals.

She carried a bouquet of baby’s breath

To keep her fingers from trembling.

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It was the twilight before winter began,

That started her first dancing lesson.

Like soft silk she stepped into his arms

As a crown of snowdrops feathered them.

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Under the chandelier of moonlight and stars,

They swayed to the music of whispered laughs.

Her two left feet guided almost weightless

By the confident signals of his eyes and mouth.

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Losing track of time as the moon traversed west,

They spoke of lifetimes and memories and silence.

Impending rays of dawn brought incomplete farewell

Of the rare kind when strangers in love bid goodbyes.


Some moments to cherish đź™‚

Memory Lane

Back in the old city

Down the memory lanes

Treading the frozen times of yesterday

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Remembering our dances in rain

I can almost feel the touch of your hands.

And smell the lost scents of your laughs.

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What dissolved those moments of love?

When did one shadow abandon the other?

Why did the sands have a single set of footprints?

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No vows of staying close.

No conditions to walk together.

No binds to name the relationship.

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Yet cold winters later

These glorious summer storms,

Find your name as a sigh on my lips.


Memories are funny, indeed.

Stifled

Image result for person drowning underwater

Ever felt so stifled by a life jacket?

That the one thing keeping you afloat,

is also the hand choking you.

It compresses your lungs, on and on,

until you cannot scream or draw in a breath.

Your hands itch to scratch and tear free

the suffocating grasp of the jacket.

You are ready to chance drowning

just to take one fervent gulp of pure air.

Darkness and silence of the void beckons more

than the ringing of your conscience,

than the shine of the blinding sun,

than the last fire of burning lungs.

Low Tide

low-tide

You work for it. You sweat for it.

Shoot a dozen wishes to make it happen…

Yet it keeps getting out of your reach.

You chase it to a point and almost give up in exhaustion

Maybe you pause and breathe.

Take in the beauty of the low tides,

Of how the sun and its shine is a lot closer to you.

As you take in the warmth, you feel the softest touch of the waves

Swirling designs around you in the sands

The tide has turned… When it was the time.

It is coming in your arms,

All at the right time,

When you were finally ready…


Written for Thursday Photo Prompt  at Sue’s.

Monologue

Long back,  I could have never talked.

Barely gotten a word in, perhaps.

Two little girls, squabbling and yelling.

What a ruckus they made – but I listened.

I didn’t have much choice, eh?

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Sisters in crime, backing each other up.

Building fairy tales out of barbie sets

And teaching fuzzy koalas to race cars.

Sharing secrets and sneaking snacks.

What a lovely din on a lucid day!

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I could still sing though… 

A lullaby as they smiled in their dreams.

Mussed-up hair and hands clasped tight.

Warm in the comfort of my arms,

United in bonds of sisterhood.

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I wish I had spoken as they grew.

Asked them to cherish the past.

School and studies, alarms at ghastly hours.

Secrets turned to worries. Snacks turned to diets.

Adulthood dawning upon them.

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I can talk all I want now, but…

There is no one to listen, no one to talk to.

My arms have been empty far too long.

I only hope they remember me at times,

As they talk within walls far beyond.


My room. I miss my room! And I miss it more remembering the times I spent with my sister. Wrote this as an impulsive response on behalf of my room’s walls to the prompt at dVerse Poetics – “If walls could talk…”