We were not lovers, not long lost soulmates waiting
to know the taste of each other’s names on our tongues

We were not hands held across rooms through the
static of the air before learning the patterns that line
our skin(s)

We were not lovers, but I ached for want
of a story to tell, a gentle lullaby to sing to my heart
as we slept under stars that did not know my name

We were not dying wishes, not crescendos that echoed
across oceans beckoning out like sirens and seaside songs
and thunderstorms that dance to the rhythm of the blood
in our veins

We were not lovers and we were not friends, and I
left no pieces of myself behind but I could swear
it was alive, I could swear the stones were laid on
footprints much emptier than mine, and I could swear

The shadows trembled when they fled out of sight

 

Umang Kalra

Umang Kalra

Umang Kalra is student of History at Trinity College, Dublin. Her work has appeared in Textploit Magazine, VAYAVYA, Esthesia Magazine, Blue Marble Review, as well as Safari India Magazine. She is currently involved in a year-long poetry mentorship programme under Doireann Ní Ghríofa for women of colour in Ireland.  

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