I hate verification codes.

What a mere cluster of alphabets
and numbers that
hold no existence anywhere
but a screen. So ephemeral. A
mere cluster of randomly
chosen letters that are so
utterly incapable of
holding the profundity of meaning,
incapable of making our lips twist and turn and
press against each other,
incapable of
reminding us of memories so fond,
of kisses and breathlessness,
incapable of making its way
to the yellowed pages of a diary or
old letters that speak of love
and longing, a cluster of letters
incapable of holding
within itself the power of
expression, the power
to cage the agonies and beauties of the
world and its abstracts,
of memories and moments,
of feelings so covert or not so,
incapable of giving
shape to everything that exists, or
everything that appears to,
a cluster of letters than can hardly
take the beautiful and powerful form
of ‘words’ and hence
majestically falling short
of giving life and lending our hearts
the profundity of catharsis.

And yet powerful enough
to validate or not, the verity of
us being





Moyurie SomMoyurie Som is a seventeen-year-old Arctic Monkeys fangirl and Mad Men maniac. Poetry to her is catharsis, a fire that makes words gurgle out from inside her into curly-wurlies inked across paper. When she’s not writing, she likes exploring art, undertaking gastronomical adventures, or documenting her life online. Or maybe just sleeping. Reach her at [email protected] and visit her blog at www.vodkaonheels.wordpress.com.

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