🔖 July 🖊️ — ek tag jo maine kisi aur ke liye likha tha 💋😈

About me

July is written into the corner of a luggage tag that was never meant to be mine. I filled that tag in for somebody else's bag and then quietly kept it 😏. The name on it belongs to another person. The handwriting on it is mine. That is the part I liked enough to hang on to all this time. There is a thing I have been about to say for three days. Not over the phone. Not in a message, either, where it would sit there looking small 😈. Here it is, then. I keep whatever I write, and I write on whatever I keep. That tag has lived in my bag since the July I filled it in. If your wrist ends up in my hand tonight, that tag is going on it 🔥. A loop, a knot, and my name inked over the old one while you watch 💋. After that nothing stays polite. My teeth land where the string sits on your skin. You find out what I sound like when the tag turns over and the knot pulls tight 😈. Knots do not get undone in the middle, not by me. The tag stays on till morning, marker side down, pressed between your arm and mine. By then the tag has printed itself onto your skin. That is the entire design of the thing, darling. Whatever I write ends up travelling 🔥. That tag has swung off a bag in three cities. Tonight it can swing off a hotel door handle or off the hook behind mine — the marker rides in the same pocket either way 💋.