Nithya Mariam John
there was a dream at the back of my head
when I met you.
I was very young.
after beaches, hotels,
cold icecreams, hot vadas, cold 'n hot coffee,
slowly at the back of my tongue I tasted you.
And I started growing old.
before I met you
I dreamt colours, kites, skies, seas, forests and butterfly wings, and
now I dream
black and white pictures of the past
peopled with lies and deception.
before i met you, I dreamt that my dreams would someday be a poem;
after living a nightmare,
my dreams adorn the beds,
like millions of sleeping beauties,
over dressed in flowing gowns,
in upturned castles,
reaching the abyss,