Musings

You make me forget the restlessness of my soul,

The touch of my pen, the nights spent by

The window, the salt on my wounds,

And the blur of a thousand shades.

You make me forget most things-

The words I wrote and read over and over,

Poems I memorized, the pages I ran my fingers through, 

The bending of stiff spines of notebooks, the tireless

Scribbles on the edges of my notebook:

You make me empty.

You make me void of memories and drown me

In the river of the nectar flowing

From your lips,

The nectar which tells the taste of 

An intoxicated present. 

Vidushi Raajput