Of books and of water

I got you and forgot you. You will get me and forget me. In between getting and forgetting, there is a morbid number which both of us wrote on a piece of stone and threw into the pocket of narcissism. We were ready to leave everything for love but instead of everything we left the very idea of love. We smiled but no one felt the warmth of that smile. Whenever we laughed, at the end we laughed at each other. You took me as a sailor who had no ships and I took you as a reader who spent her life sleeping in a library. We were happy with ourselves as both of us were liar and we knew it. One day, I truly had a chance to be the captain of a ship and you woke up in the library and started reading. That day, we parted. And love took shelter in books and water.

The Master

What a thought so futile! Cacophonic bats hover all around my house, around my room. They perhaps want a delightful conversation with me. Though I know none of them, not a single face. What I can remember is only you. You, the master. You taught me things unknown, took me to a Xanadu, asked me to stay there. But my poor soul didn't listen to you. I somehow heard a whisper of an unfamiliar bat telling me to plunge into a valley of mist and dead flowers on death-beds. I should rather have been deaf to a voice that causes melancholy. Having gazed at the sky where I used to see your tender light, found nothing but a giant horse pulling a cart filled with dead bats. I cried for you, I cried for the bats as they had all the right to live a life of their own though venomous. I tried to compose an elegy in memoriam of those dead creatures who died for no reason, but felt empty inside. In search of words, I now have been an infiltrator to the dictionary. My beloved master! Pardon me. Between you and me, between us, now there lies a dictionary full of unknown signs.