 After you left, your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal of so much love. One cigarette in the non-smoker's tray. As the last spire trembles up, a sudden draught blows it winding into my face. Is it smell, is it taste? You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips. Out with the light. Let the smoke lie back in the dark. Till I hear the very ash sigh down among the flowers of brass I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss. |
Quite obviously this wasn't by me, but it was too beautiful not to be posted.
5 comments:
reminds the thing going between in Amrita Pritam and Sahir Ludhianwi...she described it in somewhat same stuff in her own way. if ever get chnace to read her autobiography "Rasidi Ticket" - The Reciept
Oh my. I'd posted this on my 2nd blog long back. Hee. Isn't it divine?
@Nuktaa- Will try and get a hold of it. I'm osrt of ignorant atm
@anushka-It is. I've just found one other by him online though =( Something to do with Absence?
And i know, your blog is where I saw it first, my lovely. Resisted the temptation to post it for too long, kept going back to read it, and finally posted it =)
You can almost breathe in the words too,and feel them nestling against your insides.This IS divine.
Isn't it? This stayed with me for a long, long time.
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