POETRY | LOVE
The Fossil
Of things bygone
There's a folded, wrinkled paper in my tattered purse —
a mosaic of white with blue ink blots and yellowish stains, torn from the middle of a notebook, hastily written over.
A butterfly with two hearts for wings adorn a corner of the page. "Amor vincit omnia," says your mediocre handwriting.
But I loved the mediocrity, all that the worn little letter held — your voice, my eyes; your smile, my tears, your words, my hope; your touch, my dreams.
Long back, you had time to convince me of the possibilities ahead.
Today, I'm there — we are there — yet, I find myself keeping the note, slipping back into the intoxication of beginnings...
From time to time, twisting time back seems like a great idea.
I could turn back time until just before the first kiss — just to feel the trembles all over again, and the quiver in my lips, just to revisit the need in your eyes, just to hear again that voice from another time.
But for now, I shall make do with the fossil in my purse...
© Sana Rose 2020
Note: I still keep the first love note my husband — then boyfriend — gave me almost 12 years ago. :)
Also check out other poems on Love and Pain:
Sana Rose is an award-nominated novelist, poet, physician, counseling professional, freelance writer and mom. She is based out of Kerala, India. Her debut women’s fiction novel ‘Sandcastles’ was shortlisted for ARL Literary Awards 2018 for Best Author soon after publication.