Empty words
fall for ream after ream of blank paper:
creamy, rich,hollow.
She, with baggage,
(those selective wounds
of no consequence)
chooses to breathe
day after day,
in busy days
and in forgotten dreams
of tired nights;
And
He,
with words,
as vacant as
his eyes,
all sparkle stolen,
angry, repulsed
seductive,
conjoin in moments
of inky wetness
like tears
that soften
with abrasive salt
the dry cheek
of a lonely mother
© Geetakshi Arora
September 25, 2014
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