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
classic,
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.”
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