By Sonam Kaloti, Arts Editor
broke away, fell away,
drifted apart.
whatever we had last may
sits in the dark
of my memory.
nutmeg, palo alto
sifts through the air.
I don’t wallow,
I swallow the nothing.
no despair.
there’s no sadness, no crying,
I don’t miss you at all.
If my body is lying
and I crumple in fall,
there’s still no denying
I wanted this so bad
to sit in the dark of the memories we had.
an old spark’s the enemy,
there’s still no denying—
perhaps in the future,
but for now, I’m not crying.
