Rose-tinted glasses are just red, and I have painted myself with the color
now that the hollow of your eyes isn't there, now that 
the absence of it lingers in empty spaces 
and packed rooms and parking lots, 
where love was supposed to be, where love promises to be 
I have grown older since the dread in your voice last summer 
You see, I am trying. I am looking 
at what is left of the world with a kaleidoscope
Piecing the scraps together from the bruises of the floor where you had left 
I sink my baby feet into the creek, now that the rain has swallowed its form
I sink my teeth in my flesh, now that the sun has swallowed me whole 
And when the sky displays a crescendo of red, I try 
even less to think of that Sufjan Stevens song–   
the city drowns under my rotten breath
Asymmetry is a language I am fluent in, for I continue to struggle 
to make meaning out of the sunlight on your shoulder-blade 
across the table in-front of the burnt coffee from
The cafe that served burnt coffee  
Or the tenderness of your fingers on mine when the rainwater poured from underneath
The cradle I sang to is a desire left at your doorstep and how  
you would tell me about the crevices in your skin or the way
A leaf casts a shadow on the sidewalk on the way back home
Is only a memory stashed in a pile of boxes labeled 'do not open'
But there is little sense to be made from the absurdity of desire (and its death)
And I do not know when the light source fades away, and
I don't know of the jagged peaks that mark 
the end to this yearning or despair 
but I do see the boundary line that marks the beginning
The horizon where the last streak of sunlight ends is the birth of a tomorrow–
I have found this longing at the end of the stream of water I long to drown in  
My toes sink gently at the creek, with all the love I had to offer.

A.M. Fahad is an aspiring poet and writer from Dhaka. He uses vivid imagery and elements of nature to encapsulate his emotions with words, which often end up in a thought train rather than a conclusion. Find him at amfahad1747@gmail.com.