The Book With The Brown Cover Poem by arunima dutta

That is our book
The one with the brown cover
It lay on the shelves at the frozen corner
Dusty...Sequestered.

That book has preserved us like a pressed flower
Solitary and distinctive
There are sounds between the pages
And only a voice can bring us back to being after ages.

The twenty sixth leaf have your hands on my shoulders
And how you kissed me full on the mouth
We closed our eyes as our skin drenched in rain
the 26th leaf have you kissing me again and again.

A promise made
A promise kept
A promise broken
A genius poured our blood to ink his pen.

The epilogue have your love written on my face with a knife
You killed me
And we both died
Love was our prerequisite..death required.

And now as we lay neatly pressed between the pages
Hoping to breathe when someone opens it after ages
For our love didn't end on the last page
As it didn't begin on the first page either.