ME and d

Me and D
always spend nights
talking to each other.
The conversations are half asleep,
and I know I am weeping
with the words.
D is a strange beast.
he creeps into my bed
under the sheets
and slowly
under my skin.
And I am inside him;
cocooned
and crying
myself to sleep.
D.
D and I
were playmates.
And we had rituals.
I would build houses
making bricks out of cards,
and he would be
the laughing earthquake.
According to D
earthquakes laugh.
He wet the bed
and blamed it on me.
Earthquakes lie as well.
D,
was a nuisance.
But he was there.
And with him
I wasn’t alone.

It’s been a while.
And I know,
they are just cards
and not bricks.
But D
is still an earthquake.

– Shakya

image courtesy: jimmo.org

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