Dissolved by Sanket Mhatre

Words are made of air Paper thin ether – supposed to last a day, sometimes a moment The blink of an eye – when past is replaced with remembrance deep from the soil of tinted papers mulch of yesterdays from libraries where dust encrusted lines were fences into another world Words that can germinate under your window attract butterflies under your eyelids borrow a little of what you saw in every land bring back a tiny rainbow that you once held on your way back Words that can hold a part of my scent when I spoke to you last; Particles of an uncertain earth words that can hold the blood of our songs salt of our sweat something you can keep as a promise before they vaporize over empty calendars holding the only depth silence knows but will never speak I keep excavating words from the land of seeds…