my father never saw me smoke
he didn’t see the way the clouds
come out of my mouth
and make beautiful shapes in the sultry sky
between me and Her.
I have never liked the way a cigarette felt
between my two fingers
but the sight of it between Her lips-
a dream, a sea, I’m drowning-
made my teeth ache to have a taste.
This is how I learned to speak.
But now my father
he wants me to forget these words
the words I labored over
I created a story, a novel
I created a sea
but my lungs are too tired to let me swim.
She will be leaving in six months
and we were here together just long enough
for me to remember the dents on Her cheeks,
the mole above Her lips,
the awkward shape of the curls in the ends of Her hair.
I stare into her eyes and
my feet meet the water.
We are unadulterated
we have known each other just long enough to create oceans
but fretting in the ocean can only make you drown.
And so I leave.

Photo Credit: Lil Larkie Flickr via Compfight cc

Paakhi Bhatnagar

Paakhi Bhatnagar is a student from India and an avid reader of historical fiction. She is a passionate feminist and blogs about current politics and feminist issues. She also possess the uncanny ability of turning everything into a debate.

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