Of conversations, an imaginary contentment

Yawer shared these lines – likely a translation of Faiz’s poetry, he wasn’t sure – dug up from the trenches of his computer. We were speaking of loneliness and the weather and privacy and the pretensions of being okay when we are not right before.


The afterglow traps you in its skin.
Hours later, you are still stepping in and out
Of conversations, an imaginary contentment.
I walk around the house, restoring solitude
From room to room, only to find your smile
Wrapped around my hand, opening doors.

. . . . .

On a silent pond,
A peel of exile sky
Caught a skin of distant cloud
And felt its still heart stir
For the silver babble of raindrops


Exile sky…. Sounds like Faiz. Beautiful lines anyhow. In the first piece, I like the imagery of stepping in and out of conversations; the normal tip-tap sounds of an ordinary day passing by in the mind of the poet.