“Battles won amid war is not victory.”
          ― Faheem
Void of motion. Pursed lips. Words within — unsaid; and it’s tough to not say something when you know it is meant not to be said. Vigour is a sunken ship that hit a chunk of ice while in motion — death of motion; only what reaches the shore is grief, or cries shouting their realisations of loss, also the thoughts, which were nothing like what happened — the acceptance that the belief of probability of having scaled you was a mistake — an utter disbelief.  All that remains is a wish that secrets had found ways to revelations earlier than when time chose.  As every other time, you were only an image — imagined; I was a mirror that didn’t see you, for what you were.
By Jayant Kashyap
About Jayant:
Jayant Kashyap’s poetry appears in StepAway and Rigorous magazines, among others; one of his poems has recently been featured in the Healing Words Awards Ceremony (September 2017). His collaborative poems with Lisa Stice now appear in zines.
His debut chapbook, Survival, is to come later this year from NY-based Clare Songbirds Publishing House. He is the co-founder and editor of Bold + Italic.
Featured Image by Gueorgui Pinkhassov.

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