Held

What happens when you hold me, but I'm the one holding the both of us.

You're cold tonight;

arms wrapped tight around 

my waist,

we waste time

and the moments inside.

We bide time;

though the glass grains glide 

through the smallest crack in your back

down 

your

spine

which buckles under the weight of the "Wait.

Stop.

Not like this.

Not right now."

And every other line I ladle into your mouth.

Yet I'm the one swallowing your pride.

So sidle up and bury me

in the crook of your chest;

indented to perfect

proportions

and forget me here.

Reviews

[Rahul]

Nice, it's a great sensible stuff you made. I liked reading the piece... when i was reading this i'd viewed some characters of your this write. Well penned write.