PETRICHOR
“When it rains, it pours”, they say.
I think of the droplets on the blades –
Rainwater on grass I mean.
You were not rain, per se.
In my skies, the faintest gray.
Shall I open that floodgate?
I prepared for your arrival
Like one would before a hurricane
But you were a drizzle, at best.
Lucky for you, I was dry earth –
A distorted sense of self-worth.
Soaking up beads of bare minimum.
I guess only a few can make it pour when they rain.
You were just a fleeting cloud -- a phantom pain
Is what I’ll call your lingering scent.
A projected petrichor.
But in my heart, I’ll always know
That it was my storm, not yours.
Arshi Mortuza, author of One Minute Past Midnight (2022), is currently plotting her next book and her next adventure. On a mission to visit every country, she believes travel and poetry are the best ways to get lost and find herself. She can be found on Instagram as @poetessarshi
.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles
Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International
Borderless 