Wednesday, December 14, 2016

358. Boxes

packed in boxes
i had left aside 
a lot of books
when i find time
i will release 
all these imprisoned stories
some day

all these books
sat waiting
for a long while
in hope 
of the right time

their pages
started turning
that familiar brittle yellow

and then 
one day
i opened the boxes
and saw
that all the stories
had aged
so much so
they crumbled and fell apart
at the slightest touch

looked at them
and smiled

we seemed
to share a story

have not i
been sitting patiently
in wait for the right time
so I could
free the story in me

one day
when i open my eyes
i will find myself
worn by time
turning that brittle yellow
and my story tender and no longer relevant

when someone
comes by
and touches me ever so slightly
with care
would i crumble 
and fall apart too?

Translating 348.

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