b. bileen
climbing the mountain of sorrows,
with the rope of your absence,
I evacuated my deep river of silence
those mischiefs,
unquenched thirsts,
peeled but sealed memories,
and your departure with a dusky and vacant smile,
has ruined those boudoir scamps.
I has laid on pacific loss and sniffed your lucid breaths.
exhaling the memoir, I inhaled the sufferings,
my heart still blows for a last draft on her cigarette.
(b. baleen is from Doti and writes on existence and activism.)