The White Sheet Poem by samyak jain

not many seasons ago

if i happen to scrawl
a circle on a white sheet
of paper

and
oblong the south side a bit

and
put two dots on the east and the west

without any further ado
eye lashes cover the dots-the eyes,

in no time
the lips sprout at the centre
and become crimson red

the scrawled sheet
assumes life

and the lips lisp my name
and whisper sweet nothings

ah! that was seasons ago

and the white sheet now
groans under paper weight

in the dark, silent room.

where have you gone now