dear sister: a poem

A poem:

On a cold December evening 

I sat with your diary open 

With the cold warm fire burning in the hearth

As i stared at the inked blank pages 

of this unfamiliarity familiar notebook

Brushing my fingers on its worn pages

Of words written in perfectly undefined curves

That held the memories of unmade memories 

I wondered with helpless hope

Maybe if i could've travelled back in time

I would've known the way you smiled as you write and rewrite these words on your diary

Dreaming about a thousand different ways of you and I growing up together 

Of the way we would've run around the summer fields with sunflower diadems adorning our sun kissed heads

Of us spending our nights under the starry sky as we counted the dancing stars and making our own constellations 

The times we would have gushed about boys and the gallant princes of old fairytales 

Maybe if i could've travelled back in time

I would have known how you smiled 

for one last time so similarly different 

from my mourning lips

Of Oxymorons and paradoxes

~iniya