do you remember the havoc
of our hushed conversations
held on the rooftops
of the sand castles we built,
with these hands we use
to hurt one another?
do you remember the sky
turning lilac as
the summer sun set
on the very worst of you,
the very worst of us?
do you remember the moon
bolstering itself to the blues
to prepare for the storm
you bring with you,
every time you enter this home?
do you remember
the sound of each teardrop
filling the sea of sadness
only you could create,
only you could fix?
do you remember the ease
of our rare laughter
as the white of the sand,
enveloped our feet?
do you remember the sky
turning azure
to breathe relief at the sight
of your fists, unfurling?
do you remember the moon
unhooking itself from the night sky
to signal the ceasefire,
to this war no one wins?
do you remember the sound,
of each raindrop our mother watched
wet the window
as she asked herself,
who was the monster she made?
– Natasha Kumar for MTTN
– Photography by Aryaman K.D