Monday, April 26, 2010

sigur ros binge

I remember when we ran so fast, I lost my favorite earring. Just one. A gift to the gutter, a gift to the city. I remember we sat listening to Jeff Buckley, who died too soon, so we'd be too warm under our covers, with his music to placate our raging fires. I could only concentrate on your vampire marks and the feel of your spotty skin under my fingers.

I thought I could beat you. I thought I could talk over you. I thought I could out-sulk you. Everything was a competition. Now, knowing that I've lost, knowing that I'm wrong, humbles me. Even though my performance was lacking, even though I didn't quite make the mark, you didn't care. Not like I would have.

Amma kehti hain:
waqt baadshah,
waqt fakeer.

1 comment:

Purple said...

I Love the last verse.