Relapses and Homecomings

I entered the room,

and with all the energies diluted in the air
hers was too noisy to mingle with the rest.

So heavy that while the other’s floated like a cloud,

Hers spread like a land,



hoping that the rain will moisture her this time

Even though her eyes were stormy already.


Her flight was the next day,

3.45 pm,

but she was already there.


She was already counting all the days that she wasn’t there.

All the walls heating up and cooling down trough seasons,

She ran her fingers on them, as if reading all the stories of her absences,

only in braille.

But, would they remember her beauty or would they recognize her wrinkles?

Or would she remember them at all?


Yet, she recalled,


Suddenly sympathizing with the floor of her verandah during summers,

releasing the heat faultlessly

and burning their feet innocently

but wasn’t it only desperate and waiting for a drop of rain as well?


Soul filled with gravity, pulled me towards her.

I sat in the space but my presence was blurred.


Starring at her verandah floor she raised her eyes in intervals

Heedless of her travel through spaces

In the room, she looked at the others.


Her heart spinning inside,

The numbness of her brain with perpetual events of what had happened and what did not

What would happen and what would not.

I wanted to hold her hand

But again,

my efforts of keeping her here were lost between the transactions.


So I held her tight, And I let her storms clash.

At last she was damped, as our tears splashed.

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