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Description of the Book:
A tingling of the toes when dying waves touch them and recede and touch them again, the tender way in which soft sunshine crawls down the back at dusk, the elation at making a friend laugh raucously, the first shock of cold water hitting the skin, falling asleep faster when cushioned into someone's arm as a pillow.
An anthology of personal musings and private moments.
Perhaps not all poems are poetry, but all people are poets.
To Smell of Rain
₹50.00Price
Author Name: Samprati Lavana About the Author: I've had a gnawing suspicion, for some time now, that I am nothing. Any depth is an illusion, this is mere mirage you see. The well holds no water from lost, ancient, magical days. It has no mouth that's a mirror, only reflecting the depth of the sky. Come closer and you'll see yourself reflected. I am what you want me to be. I am you. I am not myself. I am not. There's no feeling flesh and knowing bone here. I'd zip open my skin, to show to you the hollowness within, if only my guts wouldn't fall out. These, rather chilling, and so, hilarious, words, of a serious, 20yearold Samprati Lavana may have some depth to them beyond just plain old, dramatic angst as a writer, perhaps what one must do best is simply reflect realities in their words. Here I try to reflect, and so, possibly create, presense. Presense, intimately. Presense personified. Thank you, BookLeaf, and thank you anyone who picks these poems up! Book ISBN: 9780703703767