Tuesday, 8 February 2011


As pockets are rattled and
Turned inside out,
I searched the apparels of your tale
Hoping the lie will tumble out
Like an errant hideaway coin
Telling truth in silence;
But those scraps I found instead:
Tickets belying travels taken
Tissues edged with coffee and stray thoughts
Tokens bookmarking memory
And my fragrance, wafting on all.

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