1
Poetry
Crooks and nooks
Prerana Santosh
I always told you I loved the book nooks so you made me one in your arms, I found comfort in the crooks of you.
The scars on you, you found almost monstrous,
While those marks looked like lightning strikes I wished to stare at them for a lifetime.
A 2 a.m. craving for cookies and you.
I walked into the bookstore and it felt like home only to envision your smile and it felt the same.
When Patroclus said he'd recognise Achilles by touch alone and in death, I wondered how until I could recognise your presence immediately in silence.
When the one time I wished for one person I could tell everything to and rely on, it was you.
To lay in the rain with you, let your sorrows be washed away and you'll never be alone as long as I'm alive.
The first and last thought of my day, your name is worship on my lips.
I wished to be someone's muse but you became mine instead.
Oh to be the artist, not the art.
Oh to be the poet, not the art.
Oh to be the author, not the art.
Oh to be a composer, not the art
Oh to let you know you're loved, even in silence unknown to it, especially in silence unknown to it.