Sixth Sense

 

When we old girl friends meet, separated by space, miles and time,
We sense our demons and our gods, just by one gaze sublime…

The battles we’ve fought alone and won, and the wars we’ve intentionally lost,
Memories which warm our soul and the ones we’ve carefully tossed…

The liner in our eyes or the lack of it, unkempt nails but plucked brows,
Carry silent tales of our what, when, where and hows …

A carelessly tucked white strand, triumphant crow lines, and shy little skin spots,
We know time alone didn’t bring them, but millions of struggling thoughts…

Sans the pleasantries and how are you’s , we know the unspoken word,
Punctuate the stories; add synonyms, to the ones we haven’t even heard…

So next time when I see you, oh sister of my heart,
Days, months, years or time zones apart.

Let the world know that we women don’t need words, handshakes or hugs to greet …
For we both know how our life is, the moment our eyes meet.

 

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