You’ve been hiding from me a long time. Perhaps in the pages of the book I left unfinished. Perhaps in the unplayed song on my guitar. Maybe you were wrapped in the words I like, like whimsical and love. Maybe you were in the sorrow that cuts me to the quick and leaves me new and clear and hopeful. Maybe you’re the l, in love. Perhaps you’ve been lurking behind bookends. Or maybe, you’ve been asleep in the sentences of my favourite piece of writing. Were you in the straps of my favourite bag? Or in the ink of my pen? Or the pages of my moleskine diary? Could it be that you are the gleam in the ring I wear or the lead in the pencil I write with? Perhaps you’re the o, in hope. You’ve been hiding in the sense of accomplishment that I have felt of late. Or in the rim of my cup of coffee, once I am done with it. The foil that wraps my favourite bar of chocolate carries you in it. You look amused at the pleasure I derive from the simple act of revealing what’s underneath. Maybe you’re the v, in overwhelmed. I don’t know. Maybe you’re the edge of a sepia tinted photograph pregnant with meaning and memories. I see you now, curled in the arm of the g, lurking behind the length of the b. I wonder why I haven’t seen you before, in almost every space I inhabit. Maybe you’re the e, in need. Perhaps you’re in the rightness of the embrace, the silk of the kiss, in the warmth of the voice and heat of that smile. Perhaps you’ve been waiting for me to come your way and find you. And I did. I read that book. I played a tune. I cried. I hoped. I dared. And there you were, looking at me, as if to say, “Where have you been all this while?”
I’ve been looking for you.
2 comments:
Love-hOpe-oVerwhelmed-nEed.
Splendid! But the 'g' and the 'b', I could not figure.
My personal inclination would be towards the pencil lead and chocolate cover, ma'am.
This is wonderful.
Sooraj, thank you.
I meant hiding behind the shape of the letters. G has a curve at its end. And b has a line that makes it.
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