top of page

Monsoon Birthday

Updated: Jul 18, 2023

It's a dewey grey school evening.

We get a couple of hours to spend

on cake and walks.

And laughs.

I wear my green silk top and embroidered shoes

-it will all be wet soon.

I fill a bag with flowers for you.

My pomegranate tree shakes its rain in me

as I reach and pluck your presents.

What I don't know now

is that I'll remember this day

after we part ways.

None of the disagreements,

just this day.

And monsoon again,

when you're just a few streets away,

I won't remember why,

why I can't come over with a bag of pomegranate flowers,

why we can't walk together in the rain,

why I'm all grown up, but missed seeing you change.

Only this memory of your birthday will remain.

💌This is about a treasured friendship which didn't survive. I am still thankful for having had it while it lasted and remember the good things.


Recent Posts

See All

Beautiful Boy

I met you in a dream: a child, trapped without your shoes, toxic blood -invisible- covered the walls and floors, I carried you out of your poison home, Whatever the route I chose, the timing would be


The vision lingers. Soft light holds me. I am afraid to forget you. I don't want release from this merging of soft wishes and soft dreams. Such generous precision, making my life so precious, to think


I dived right into your world following the woman in yellow. She vanished and became me, and I knew how to find you. You were there, connected from a million dreams. You were there, all layers merged-


bottom of page