Lack of Me

With a twinkle in their eyes

And a question forming on their lips,

When they come knocking at my door

In search of fairy tales of my youth,

What shall I say?

Will they be dulled

When it opens to a black abyss?

To blurs of empty sheets

And darkened rooms?

To silent walls

And quickened breaths?

Of prayers sent

To empty skies?

What shall I tell them about you?

Should I spin lies

Of our cold romance,

Or tell them

Of your absent scent?

The scent of patience pinned on thin walls

With chipping paint and hammered nails.

Or should I tell them when we meet?

When we miss each other by happenstance

While meeting in our loneliness?

Or while we pray for one another's hand

In hoping for a lover's dance?

Should I tell them

Of our waltzes in the dark?

Bewitched and standing miles apart

While moving in and out of sync.

We've danced together, haven't we?

Somewhere amidst the rain and fog

I must have seen you standing there.

In my paintings on the wall,

In a picture on my phone.

Maybe you were at my door?

Did I forget to let you in?

How shall I say you looked at them?

With loving hatred

For miracles?

Or shall I say

You never looked?

Stayed far from where

You couldn't see?

From where they'd never know

where they'd come from.

Or who I'd been

When I was yours.

Would they love me,

Do you think?

The way you did,

When you saw me?

Or will that door

Snatch them up as well

With all its emptiness

And its lack of me?

Syeda Erum Noor is dangerously oblivious and has no sense of time. Send help at erum.noor1998@gmail.com