Words … Unseen

Here’s a poignant poem about remembrances and longing, by Tirthankar, exclusively for Different Truths.

Don't say that you chose
To leave unsaid
And brush aside with a swing of your hand
Words that chose to be dead.

Now they lie like putrid flesh,
Stinking in a closed-down hell,
Ovens cold, the extinguished fire
Scattering ashes of the beautiful seashells

Once worn around the neck
Of a lady on whose ivory arms
Birds sat and pecked,
Fearless, unharmed.

Round the corner of a lonely street
Words lie like beads unseen
Which you left unsaid
But cannot remember when.

Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths