#Title

LACK OF ME
SYEDA ERUM NOOR
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
ILLUSTRATION: WARDHA MORIAM