By Amrita Sharma
Your confessions never mattered,
Your agreement was never my call,
Your choices never governed mine,
Your confusions were born out of your own mind.
Your perfection was never my necessity,
Your insecurities were never my concern,
Your impatience was not my drive,
Your anger was not fuelling my life.
Your comfort was never my hope,
Your peace was not a part of my shopping list,
Your charm never made me insecure,
Your happiness was always yours.
Something tells me it might possibly be a dream
It shall be over with a wink
With nothing changed.
There is a new word we learnt— ‘quarantine’— and the television news now begins to alarm,
But I have stumbled upon your ‘presence’ somehow,
Now it’s a newer world within a changing time.
The possibilities of an end finally liberate me from my fears
And I dare to embrace you in my thoughts,
For I know we would never step out of our houses and ever meet.
Your voice is enough to calm my nerves,
Your smile is enough to take me to mine,
Your presence within my smartphone suffices my quarantine.
With no promises of future,
Escaping the dreads of the present time,
The most beautiful of its kind was perhaps,
An encounter with love in the times of quarantine.
Amrita Sharma is a Lucknow based writer currently pursuing her Ph.D. in English from the University of Lucknow. Her works have previously been published in Café Dissensus Everyday, Muse India, New Academia, GNOSIS, Dialogue, The Criterion, Episteme and Ashvamegh. Her area of research includes avant-garde poetics and innovative writings in the cyber space.
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