"Sipping the silent sea"
I am staring at the vacant staircase, while it reeks of unbuttoned shirts spilled on the floor and a dozen other lingering kisses. The smoke from the kettle slips quietly, unnoticed. Just like you did, from my thoughts, within the folds of the linen sheets. The ceiling stares away blankly, devoid of explanations of our concluding conversations. Or was it the ungrateful goodbye on the torn, parched note that you left on the side drawer?
I am staring at the vacant staircase, for it reminds me of the slow, faint steps you took into my mind and soul. Only to shake me as if rummaging through a dirty cupboard enveloped in dust. The smoke from the kettle slips quietly, unnoticed. Because it fears the tears might finally trickle down my elbows. The ceiling stares away blankly, devoid of explanations of our concluding conversations. Or maybe, it doesn't wish to fall upon my bare skin, dipped in sorrow.
I am staring at the vacant staircase, for I sit here numb, awaiting a sign, a catastrophic detour in our lives. I was in love with the idea of being in love with you. Turning and tossing bare beneath the sky, we lie draped in the sheets. Who knew I was just a bucket of needs serving your pride. I was just a piece of humanity waiting to be shredded at the behest of the most important man in my life. If only you'd come back to savor me, while I drown in the lost days of loving you. If only, you had saved my soul from yours, while I wait here, sipping the silent sea. - Ridhi Singh
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