Lost Baggage

by Anita Nair

1

I shed fragments:
a memory
a hope
a line
a dream
a wrinkle
I shed bits of me
in airports and faceless hotels

I shape a new me:
a memory
a hope
a line
a dream
a curve
I shape a new being
in cities I'll never see again

2

I have forgotten
what it is to be alone.

I know.
When I call for wine
more than I need.
A demi instead of a quart.
Or wake up in a bed
with a chaste unslept side

I know.
When I hear my thoughts
as words spoken aloud.
When my arms ache
with the weights
they have forgotten to hold.

I know.
When I stumble to my hotel
holding myself in the dark.
Licking at the sugar
at the corner of my lip.
As if it were you, doing so.

14-May-2006

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