HOLES IN OUR TICKETS - Poetry by Nalini Priyadarshni

Between guzzling absinthe and walking
in circles on frozen ground
we dream of unborn summer and sigh
and watch it freeze the moment it escapes our mouths
Still hot from kisses we write to each other
 
We draw a mandala with blue tips to check
if there is still a chance to catch the train
I was late and you didn’t wait

Carpe diem
you shouted at nobody in particular
before you hitched the ride
and lived by your words
gathering shadows until they were all you had
 
Carpe diem
I repeated and
made peace with the crowd
losing myself, subsequently
 
Carpe diem
we now whisper to each other and
keel over to be sucked into 
the vortex of drunkenness.
 
Maybe at the other side of the portal, in a parallel universe
we would no longer be held hostage by the holes in our tickets
and visions beyond the end of tracks.

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