Window

You don’t look at me anymore

Because you’re bored of my stories.

Routine just changes clothes, and that doesn’t hold your fancy,

So you haven’t changed mine

And now I’m only good for the summer.

 

You don’t look at me anymore

Because size has always mattered:

Small is the new sexy.

The new ones, the others tell more tales, different tales

Which you want to be yours with an empathy I taught.

 

You don’t look at me anymore.

Just one picture, but I let you choose what you see.

Variety makes the commonplace exotic;

The sunsets have become magic.

The others curtail freedom in its illusion.

 

You don’t look at me anymore

Because routine has become boring.

The others make your evening drink now

And show you more.

But you’re too busy watching to see what they mix.

 

 

 

The photograph is taken from Arnaav Bhavanani’s collection.

 

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