Parched Throats

They walked hand in hand.

Those were the months when

they had no baggage;

Neither of the past,

Or of the future.

They lived in the present,

Finding themselves

On desperately lonely nights.

Rubbing shoulders wasn’t easy,

Because they never agreed.

They laughed it off.

They always thought there was

Something between them,

When there was none.

Because there was not a gap

Between their souls or bodies.

Do you know what is sweet?

It is the ability to respect

The unknown, the undefined

Seemingly unnatural relationships.

Hope probably lies

In the ability to grasp

The infinite conundrums of mind.

What happened was lost

In the tiny moment of time

Lips hardly remain thirsty

‘Tis souls who go to sleep

With parched throats.

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