Tremble

I tremble,
when your words hold me with the tip of their fingers,
as if one day they’d let me sleep on their palms
or let me keep my head on their fingernails
or catch my metaphors when they tumble down my lashes.

I tremble,
when your words hold me with the tip of their fingers,
as if they would fracture my branches
or tie the withered flowers to my body
or unrhyme the poetry that I have scribbled on my skin.

I tremble,
when your words hold me with the tip of their fingers,
as if they’re capable of doing everything to me,
or undo everything that has been done
or choose to do nothing at all.

I tremble,
Not because your words have too much power,
but because I have nothing,
when they hold me with the tip of their fingers.

 

Poetry by Eshwarya Khanna

Photography by Arif Khan

WhatsApp Image 2017-07-03 at 23.54.58

 

 

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