For a moment lost in translation,
the heart becomes desolate
and meaningless words struggle
to make an impression.
The words that fall into empty spaces
between you and I
are as empty as my courage
and your suitcases.
But they crawl back into my mouth
letter by letter,
covered in filth,
and looking uncouth.
And as they linger in contemplation,
I am afraid
if they will ever reach
their desired destination.
But I know it in my heart
and hope you will understand too
that the journey is more important
than the end or the start.
So they wash the stain
and embark again
on the greatest journey
we have ever taken.
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Published by Shouvik Banerjee
Shouvik Banerjee is the author of Seven Sundays (Hay House, 2019). He spends his time either writing fiction or running his online business. His short fiction has appeared in literary magazines. He lives in Kolkata, India.
View all posts by Shouvik Banerjee