It's sunset again and December smells of intoxicating fragrance of star-lit alleys rising from coniferous forests. The icy wind melts, swallowing marrow of bony memories in a single gulp and then my brain sends my heart off the scent by dodging a thousand emotions of mine. At times claiming the earth to be inconsiderate for our union or other times turning him an alien-avatar who actually spilled his guts out. Horizon drops many new lines over the sky during the sunset making me forget the initials of his name; his voice dissolves, his persona fades and then each time I bury the ruins of the past he is born again in an inescapable Present.
Paras Ali/ 2017
Paras Ali/ 2017
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