You had so much to say to me. You talked to me all the time but did I ever have a moment on my hands to hear you out, or even once. No. I never did. Never.
I close my eyes and gulp. It hasn’t been easy to explain to anyone. Apparently, they call you the keychain with the starfish made of red felt.
You talked to me of the tides that were high and low. How you had travelled in the sea and now you yearned to return to.
Your words had a halo around them as they walked over the beach towards me but I never even cast them a slight glance. I got out of the car and forgot you were lying in my lap and getting out meant you slipped down on the busy road somewhere just waiting to be squished over by some raging driver honking ludicrously.
I’m sorry or forgetting you and all that you have done for me all along and I know sorry isn’t even a word. What are words but a random combination of alphabets. I’m lost in this myriad of alphabets of languages long forgotten which are stuck in a hurricane along with our modernity.
No comments:
Post a Comment