The Dried Rose

Labeeba Ahmed

Neither do I want to be a name in your forgotten contact list,
Nor do I desire to be in the group of acquaintances

I don’t want to be your flavor, color or phase of the month
And being the watch you keep looking at constantly, wondering about the never-
ending time;
Not really in my wish-list.

I want to be the dried rose that you keep in between the pages of an old romantic
The sapphire that you treasure as a faith in love.

I wish to be the reason behind the photo in your wallet,
The muse of your life,
And the warmth in your smile.

I hope to be someone, you won’t find difficult to search, in your mind palace.
The girl in your story, which you will narrate to your children under the starry night,
A light smile playing on your lips while doing so.

Labeeba Ahmed

 “In a world dominated by Netflix and Instagram, I crave for the black ink in between yellow pages.”