Neither you nor I can escape
this nightmare of sinking love-
haven’t our moon words turned
charcoal-gray long ago?
we had grown crevices in them
with faithful self-love without the least
thought of the solace of light-
dreams that once were, are now
headstones of hills-
we are no more homesick-
it’s time to
rest in peace-
sumanar/lekha 
You have captured both the sad reality and mysterious magic of this image Sumana. It is dark but it is written with love and beautifully done.
It’s sad when dreams become headstones. So much lost
Oh, this is…heartbreaking. Every image weathers the love a little further–you give a delicate and vivid sense of time in this poem.
I think we need our dreams… too much of our reality is about headstones
Landscape as grave yard hits me over the head! “sinking love” There is no escape. Ah! I’m trying to remember that these are messages and not dirges. That we are still capable of touching.
Incredibly lovely …..
I am stopped by your title, as I contemplate how far we have strayed. Sigh. Dreams now headstones………powerful writing, Sumana.
Oh gosh…heavy sigh. 😦
I liked reading this, Sumana. It has a pace that moves along until I finished reading. Then I came back to these lines which for me unlocked the rest:
“I wanted to tell you
how I dropped down into
a seabed of consciousness
that I knew wasn’t mine”
We had a dream that had our love ready made. And when that dream was over our love ended then too. We lived with that love and now we die with it, mutually. May the dream and us RIP together.
..