if there wouldn’t be no could-have-beens & should-have-beens, this won’t be called life. they hold the ideas of faith & afterlife & heavens.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ to forget the past, I go from rooms to rooms — scientifically the door-frames act as some brainwashing portals & are blamed for/help in forgetting what you were thinking just before entering the room.
so enter infinite rooms to forget the far past & come clean.
on one such occasion, I went blank & the door created a new reality — a sudden smell of night-blooming jasmine & a few months ago I was walking down the street with a foreigner cousin of mine & the heavy jasmine hit us (there being no such tree around) I wrinkled my nose & ewwed & he said dont talk on it. dont you know these are the cologne of the djinns?
& I djinns(!?)
& he aint these things more believed in among you peoplesㅤ & I recite Quran in one of my rooms ..whispers into the hearts of the djinns & the men.
d j i n n. ㅤ d j i n n.ㅤ d j i n n.
like the 2 am bloody marys in the mirrors & just an hour ago, I walked down a lonely street & here’s this tiny silhouette child, naked dark in front of me; his head as big as my past doing a 180 degrees back turn, my heart doubled in useless efforts to pound out & run back the way I came, to my history & stay there.
though that bald dome, that still figure with swaying-in-the-wind hands didn’t extend and elongate unto acrophobic heights, for the love of the life in me, as djinns are presumed to.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ his tiny malnutritioned urchin hands, rather, crave for a gouty touch.. an arthritic hold of what should have been.
(first published in PS I Love You by the author
https://psiloveyou.xyz/%CF%85-past-stretching-to-acrophobic-heights-f97e5b1b7414)