The Moon And The Clouds

nice that we loved secretly, in a world where norms confined

nice that I don’t receive your email these days,
they told me you’re taking some time,
to heal,
to process,
to not think about thinking.

nice that my message is on draft
waiting, not waiting for your previous response,
unspoken words
suspended in the digital realm,
yearning for connection, yet hesitant to be sent.

and there, the card you once gave me,
lost, abandoned in the bustling metro,
did someone chance upon it?
discarded it,
or perhaps, read its secrets,
or perhaps, carried it away,
a keepsake of unknown tales.

nice that I lacked the courage to revisit it,
to unravel the ink-stained sentiments,
a relic of emotions suspended in time,
left untouched, but never forgotten.

nice that they gave you that pendant
you didn’t like it, I did,
you liked the moon,
I find solace in the clouds.

nice that we loved secretly,
in a world where norms confined,
we defied, we embraced, we shone.
now apart, our shadows mournfully entwine.

This story was about: Identities Sexuality

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Film and theatre enthusiast Sanjib Kalita is currently pursuing Post-graduation in History from Hindu College, University of Delhi. His interest lies in the intersection of film and gender, examining them through the lens of history while taking society and the economy into account.
Sanjib Kalita

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