Let's Wander Together While Being Apart

Bayan Arif, Pakistan

hold your hand
as if you're holding mine
while you run along the shore till night,
then dive;
plunge into the deep blue,
the salty water somehow being
the sweetest thing you've ever tasted.
then search
(and i promise i’ll be searching with you
on the other end of the ocean,)
for shells that remind us of us
before we’d become us;
crack them open
and pick the pearls carefully,
then ride (with me)
to the clouds,
and toss the shiny white things
down to the lands,
and watch them rain
on shells that remind us of us
before we’d become us;
watch them turn them into diamonds
that sway and swirl
and birth rainbows from their eyes
instead of storms.
then storm
through still museums
with lifeless statues and paintings
frozen in time,
which remind us of us
before we'd become us;
show them how it's done
until they animate
and sway with you.
then kiss
the memory of me
at a show in Broadway
like nobody's watching,
and watch the eyes shift
from fiction to fantasy.
then run (with me)
through old forgotten streets
like you’ve just robbed a bank,
rather, you’ve robbed the hearts
of anyone who's watching,
wishing they were you
wandering this earth
as if it were a walk in the park,
instead of being rooted by their excuses.
why risk comfort to feel alive when you can statically exist?
heck, that's what plants are for,
so wander with me;
explore this country
that's only left half-alive,
as if you were exploring me
in the dark of night,
let your hands wander
through grass and leaves
like they wander on my skin,
let your feet move on untrodden streets
like they move when you dance with me,
smile when you look at the pink clouds
like you do when you look at me,
desire this escape, a journey
without a destination,
like you lust over me,
and i swear i'll do the same
on this side of the land
no, don’t you dare think,
about any sundering;
with even a thousand miles between us,
we’re only growing closer,
so come, get lost in the night
and i swear i'll do the same
on this side, until the names
on our lips become lips themselves,
until you hold my hand again.

A medical student by the day, and littérateur at night, Bayan's love for writing began at an early age, when she'd devour novels hidden in her textbooks and plot thrillers instead of doing her math homework. Her work has been published in the anthologies After Dark and Roars of Quiet. She's religiously held on to writing as an escape from her harsh surroundings, but now pens rhymes with the intention to move people and bring about a change in said surroundings.