I carry a notebook around,

With dog-eared pages

Of tales I’d write every night,

Of one’s I’ll tell you

When I see you next.

My relationship with the

Pretty pink book has thickened;

It’s been a while,

Since I last saw you.

Maybe you’ve been lost, in all this translation,

Or maybe, my book and I have

Developed a bond.

These stories long for you,

And I ache for you.

Come find me,

In the pages, which may have

Now gathered dust.

Come, unmark these pages,

And read the stories you’ve been away from.

I will revisit them with you,

And travel back in time;

Narrate in excitement of the time

That whisked by.

Come find me, and read the stories out loud.

The book longs for you, and so do I.

 

 

About Author

Prerna Khatri

Member Since: 11 Sep, 2015

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