It means nothing – Bombay, 2001

I don’t hate silence.

But I hate the silence

because it reminded me of the laughter.

 

I can live with distance.

And I hate this distance

because of our closeness once.

 

I can still cry.

But these tears, no.

Because crying is not what I wanted for you.

 

In my mind’s eye it was only the stars

and the big wide open

sky to fall into and drift to sleep.

 

Your head on my shoulder.

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