Tonight I wrote you a long letter.
But it wasn’t the same you that I had stopped myself from writing to.
It sounded like a diary entry. ‘The Story of my Life’ or some such cliché.
In it I wrote of my sister. I write a lot about my twin.
The ceiling fan whirred on lazily while I recalled a joke she had heard someone crack, revolving around it.
Did I just come up with one myself? I wonder.
Real tomato juice. Fancy that!
The lemon from back home stares back at me, knowing its turn will come (but wait…it doesn’t have eyes!)
Tonight I finished writing you a long letter, my love. No. Not the mushy kind.
Just one that makes me imagine what a stamp tastes like.
With love from me to you.
LOVE SONG TO MY STRANGER
Stoop for a kiss that I will never give
But low enough for me to touch your ears.
Let them be cold as the grave through which a hand will emerge
To scoop popcorn while watching a movie (preferably sad).
Croon in a deep voice of things labelled utter trash
Smile gleefully when we talk of murder,
But abhor it in ‘real’ life.
Text sweet nothings to me late into the night
But not too mushy please
For then I’ll pretend not to care.
Don’t utter that dreadful four-letter word
It isn’t true, you know
Let’s just enjoy the present moment
And wait for a thing to happen that we know never will.
Joyee Das is currently pursuing a Master of the Arts Degree in Literature in Enlgish at Delhi University, Delhi. Contact: email@example.com