The afternoon set in, rainy and dark. The clouds had pulled over the sun for having trespassed over my dark period and cried till I felt safe within the multitudinous folds of my quilt. The room gleamed with an eerie gloom that could only be best described as my own mind while a lonely hand stretched hard and waved the curtains across to let in a passive stream of light, exploring the path of the dust that lay accumulated from time lost on its way to Earth.
The knocking hasn't ceased. The person is relentless and won't give up. Dragging my heavy feet across a cold marble floor, I moved, blinking between sorrow and seeing through tears. Stopping at the door, I yelled that I was coming, wiping away the slate clean of any traces of smudged chalk with the sweater whose hands fill mine. The door creaked, almost out of practice from the last few days. I pulled open the heavy door.
The light was unbearable for me to take. A door-ful of radiance hit me as he entered the house with a kiss and some big bear hugs. I couldn't but stare at the silhouette of light that lit my house like a Christmas star that throws its dots of light, life and hope according to engraved patterns by an artist, a lover in his own accord.
'Maybe you should try coming in,' he said.
I stood rooted near the door as he walked back to me, throwing his light and shadow across the room split by him alone and shut the door tight to retain the flavour this house has become accustomed to.
'You?'
'Yes, me.' he uttered, through those perfectly formed teeth. His overgrown locks fell across my face as he carried me in all ease and grace, that I have never seen anyone else do. Walking to my darker chamber with the single ray of light, I fondled his cheeks with those beautiful dimples that could very well act as the life-saving pond to fish in need of life, that which only grew deeper as my hands traveled their distance.
The imaginary boundary between us threw itself into the corner, the sides of the bed became but one. All I could perceive was his stubble against my collar bone, his body pressed to mine and hands that caressed what I was, every inch through. I twiddled a while, moving away only to be pressed against him, a little closer, some more passionate kisses and tickles transmitting across my own body moving onto his own. Every time he smiled, a burst of light burped out of my laughter, every time his hands played their tune across the boulevards of my body, strings connected from my head and till my toe; music flowed and resonated through the entire room. I could smell the smoke off him and we reveled in our own world of beer and vodka, the scent raising our sensitivity. No longer was any part of me insignificant or strong, it was but whet and vulnerable. For a long time there, we were but one fused mass that might have even melted had not there been that darkness in the air and the coldness in the light. In that warmth that he radiated, I closed my eyes to receive his love and never woke up.
Hard, breathless raps on the front door landed on my ears.
The darkness rolled under my eyelids, tears streaming hard as I woke up to an absence where presence was uncertain. The knocking on the door only grew harder. I wiped my face clean of pain and walked towards the edge of the world, in hope of death for a visitor. I passed the shelf and saw the calender lying around, the same from the last time I ever saw it.
~Hemu
The knocking hasn't ceased. The person is relentless and won't give up. Dragging my heavy feet across a cold marble floor, I moved, blinking between sorrow and seeing through tears. Stopping at the door, I yelled that I was coming, wiping away the slate clean of any traces of smudged chalk with the sweater whose hands fill mine. The door creaked, almost out of practice from the last few days. I pulled open the heavy door.
The light was unbearable for me to take. A door-ful of radiance hit me as he entered the house with a kiss and some big bear hugs. I couldn't but stare at the silhouette of light that lit my house like a Christmas star that throws its dots of light, life and hope according to engraved patterns by an artist, a lover in his own accord.
'Maybe you should try coming in,' he said.
I stood rooted near the door as he walked back to me, throwing his light and shadow across the room split by him alone and shut the door tight to retain the flavour this house has become accustomed to.
'You?'
'Yes, me.' he uttered, through those perfectly formed teeth. His overgrown locks fell across my face as he carried me in all ease and grace, that I have never seen anyone else do. Walking to my darker chamber with the single ray of light, I fondled his cheeks with those beautiful dimples that could very well act as the life-saving pond to fish in need of life, that which only grew deeper as my hands traveled their distance.
The imaginary boundary between us threw itself into the corner, the sides of the bed became but one. All I could perceive was his stubble against my collar bone, his body pressed to mine and hands that caressed what I was, every inch through. I twiddled a while, moving away only to be pressed against him, a little closer, some more passionate kisses and tickles transmitting across my own body moving onto his own. Every time he smiled, a burst of light burped out of my laughter, every time his hands played their tune across the boulevards of my body, strings connected from my head and till my toe; music flowed and resonated through the entire room. I could smell the smoke off him and we reveled in our own world of beer and vodka, the scent raising our sensitivity. No longer was any part of me insignificant or strong, it was but whet and vulnerable. For a long time there, we were but one fused mass that might have even melted had not there been that darkness in the air and the coldness in the light. In that warmth that he radiated, I closed my eyes to receive his love and never woke up.
Hard, breathless raps on the front door landed on my ears.
The darkness rolled under my eyelids, tears streaming hard as I woke up to an absence where presence was uncertain. The knocking on the door only grew harder. I wiped my face clean of pain and walked towards the edge of the world, in hope of death for a visitor. I passed the shelf and saw the calender lying around, the same from the last time I ever saw it.
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| Source:Google images |
~Hemu
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