How your fragrance and love
Ooze out as I unfold
Each carefully pressed layer
Of your tattered letters.
As my shaky fingers smoothen out
Each wrinkled word, phrase and line,
I regale moments shared.
Magically you appear, as if to
Speak to me, in absentia:
Oh ’twere that I could fold you into my arms!
Alas, ’tis a pity that it is not to be so!
My eyes are tear-filled:
Each tear blots the inky pigment,
That speaks of your eyes
That were pools in which I dared drown.
And now I drown in your words,
They’re my pool of solace.
How can then I rip these yellowed sheets apart
In which you lay? In your words–smiles, tears,
Angst and pain is nestled a memory
Of years before the clock stopped.
Momentarily my tears are abated
By your passionate billet doux,
strung together. How I wait for the day
When I know gnawing pain no more.
© Mumtaz N Khorakiwala
Picture courtesy: Joanna Kosinska