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Miss xyz

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Second slice: A photograph I'm having photographs for lunch. But they're stuck between the platter of the plastic sleeves of album. They've lost their original colour. They're stale. They've become pale. Still I plucked and threw them into my mouth circumventing to gulp rather to chew. Ah! But memories got lodge inside my mouth. I need to chew. I can't gulp them down. They've surrounded my taste buds uniformly with non-uniform taste. some parts are sweet, some

Second slice: A photograph I'm having photographs for lunch. But they're stuck between the platter of the plastic sleeves of album. They've lost their original colour. They're stale. They've become pale. Still I plucked and threw them into my mouth circumventing to gulp rather to chew. Ah! But memories got lodge inside my mouth. I need to chew. I can't gulp them down. They've surrounded my taste buds uniformly with non-uniform taste. some parts are sweet, some

Moitrayee

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I'm having photographs for lunch, savouring vanilla flavored peaks garnished with crunchy pines. Asphalt roads taste fishy like caviar and the lake like Bisleri. My tongue tastes nostalgia. But a photograph has been left out, so I have eaten it like a dessert. It tastes as sandy as the beach, as sweet as the sandcastle Papa and I made. The sea of lost time had swept away the castle and his footprints, though I can taste them now and then. Good afternoon! If you have noticed, I have been giving you just one word for the last few prompts. No fancy or big words, just common words to set a poem rolling. One simple word can give birth to a thousand poems, each with a different story to tell. The story of my 'Today' or 'Loss' will be different than yours, and yours will be different than theirs. For today, the word is 'Photographs'. Write how this word speaks to you, where does it take you most often and who calls you the most from

I'm having photographs for lunch, savouring vanilla flavored peaks garnished with crunchy pines. Asphalt roads taste fishy like caviar and the lake like Bisleri. My tongue tastes nostalgia. But a photograph has been left out, so I have eaten it like a dessert. It tastes as sandy as the beach, as sweet as the sandcastle Papa and I made. The sea of lost time had swept away the castle and his footprints, though I can taste them now and then. Good afternoon! If you have noticed, I have been giving you just one word for the last few prompts. No fancy or big words, just common words to set a poem rolling. One simple word can give birth to a thousand poems, each with a different story to tell. The story of my 'Today' or 'Loss' will be different than yours, and yours will be different than theirs. For today, the word is 'Photographs'. Write how this word speaks to you, where does it take you most often and who calls you the most from