Poetry by Timsal Fatima
The pain waters my eyes
As I walk through that street
The primeval wooden windows
The smell of the damp sand
The fallen leaves
Cold air, touching my chapped lips
I trace your footsteps
To seek sweet revenge
Of love that I never sought
Had not the marble in my ring
Gone vapid, I’d have gone
But I unlearned to live in this street
When I learned to get lost In unsettling familiarities
The writer is a student of English Literature at GC University, Lahore and can be reached at: timsalfatima27@gmail.com
