Let’s, you, we, and I, walk beneath crepuscular skies:

Where silver suns beam and crash to ground. mere milliseconds before they rise;

Where trophy moon trills lyrics of lunar bliss, much to rational mind’s surprise.

And quickened heartbeats grow to climax steadily, firmly on the other side

Of these here, these four of our bloodshot uncomplaining eyes. 


Let’s, you, we, and I, build truths on savoury fondant lies;

Where I will take time to bask dutifully where your soul’s soliloquies harmonise,

with the highest of hopes that you may wish to do the same for mine:

for the canvas atop which my own soul aches, laughs, sleeps, then sighs,


We can speak, if you would prefer, through silence: via screens of smoke and sullen eyes,

We could think about the clouds, their battles, and what they choose, so translucently, to leave behind.


Let’s, you, we, and I, part upon cerulean goodbyes:

We can tether ourselves to celestial promises, traipsing around only to ponder,

Wandering those dusk-tinged streets, watch as others’ pupils dilate with our same wonder.

Talk about the mundane and the sublime, the eternities we create while surviving on this here,

this borrowed time. “Say,

I wonder how many therapists go home each day only to drown themselves in wine – 

And how many people take ecstasy pills, in strange hallucinogenic pursuit of something

quite ‘Divine’?”


Sadia Ahmed, 2019

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