If asked to write a poem in one word, what would I do?
Would I write about the way the snake of her hair fell down her neck, onto the curve of her spine poised to pounce on the next lover or maybe about how she sat down next to me, the crescent moon on her starlit face, galaxies in her eyes and the same old stories that I had been hearing for the past decade.
Or maybe how poignant it was that she never did worry about people but worried about things.
Or how she was a fearless little thing, more interested in counting the number of feet of spiders than in running to safety.
Or how not downing 12 cups of coffee would’ve been apostasy, the caffeine helped her with the recurring fear of not being-so-worth or so it seemed.
Or how she worried about the freckles on her skin, joining up, making constellations on the back of her neck.
Or maybe write about how everything was never what it seemed and how when we laid on her bed together it still reeked of last night’s nicotine.
There are so many things to write about in that tiny body; biggest infinities.
If asked to write a poem in one word what would I do?
Maybe I could write a poem in one word.
Maybe I could write: You.
About the Poet:
Divyansh Thakur (Guest Poet)