in

Autograph

The writing has faded

The pages have yellowed

The rose is inodorous

And thorns seem innocuous 

               *****

Years have crawled languidly

A protracted war on her peace

Moulding her heart  gradually 

From squishy muss to skilful ease

                 *****

And yet her lips quiver instinctively 

Her eyes light up in cognisance 

An indelible proof of love’s transience

His autograph buried in the paper tomb

photo credit : Laura Furhman @ unsplash

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