Tuesday, May 29, 2012

My Nose Is Deaf

My ears can smell
the vetiver in her curls,
as misty as the swirls of dew
atop Shiva’s abode.

My eyes can touch
the sparkling sands of memories
and that flimsy sieve of time
they pass through every moment.

My nose can see
the familiar scent
of sweat and detergent,
and the nape of a certain neck

My skin can hear
the sweet sounds
of a kiss, of a union
of a gurgling stream of love

Then, sometimes, I wonder
what if love can’t be touched?
Can’t be smelt?
Can’t be heard?
Can’t be seen?

What if, after all this time,
I wake up one day
to realize that
My nose,
my stubby nose,
is deaf?


  1. You say the nose can see but @ the end of it, the nose is deaf?

  2. luved lyk nethng.