Of all
december faces,
you are
the closest
to mine that
it has ever been,
but somehow
in the middle
of silence
between us,
it feels like
oceans are
distancing us,
and neither you
nor I
have learnt
how to swim.
—both of us are afraid to drown
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
