Kiss



She leans on me with her thoughts, her curly hair kissing her face. Her hands rest on my knees and she keeps looking at me. The city has been washed with another round of rains and everything is clear, as clear as her deep coffee-bean eyes. She smiles away, trying to stop herself from opening up. While she is looking away, I  place the obstructing strand of hair behind her ear. She looks like the crescent moon in this cloudy night.

My own piece of moon, my own little piece of moon with her thoughts and hopes looks at me. Her smile is infectious, making my whole body, my soul, hers. I grab her hands and start kissing them, breathing her scent. 

As she looks at me, her thoughts make her laugh. She says that I am too much. I try not focusing on her hands and her face stares at me (or maybe at my soul, I don't know). Her lips rest on my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead. A smile breaks through my face and I am hers, all over again. I am just a mere dinghy, and her thoughts, her smile, her twinkly eyes, the tidal waves I am so fatally attracted to.

There are so many things that I hope to tell her, may be my hopes for the future, maybe some secrets from the past. There are things that I would fear to share with her, yet I would tell her nevertheless, for she owns my universe now and I hope to sway to her words. There aren't many things that are coming to my mind right now except for the fact that I have her with me right now and I have to control myself from making a fool out of me.



You know it's love when you are eager to stop everything happening around you and be with that one person you so wish to spend your life right till the last days. Soon, you know, it will be time. Time for her to leave, time for you to have her, but only in your memories. The anticipation of the distant future and the abruptness of the near one makes your head hurt. But then that's love. It makes you feel nothing and everything at the same time.

And then she gasps. Looking at her watch, she knows the inevitable words she has to tell me. I am prepared, and yet somewhere I do not want to know. Her eyes go dark. She has to leave. I have to leave. The noise of the world around us begins crowding our world again. Slowly. I take her hand and land a kiss on her ring finger. A li'l waiting won't hurt, I think.

hug
We get up, start walking. Our opposite hands desperately cling on. I try and bring in words to the silence but not silent is not as same as full. I play with her fingers while the street quickly goes past us. Why can't I hug her perpetually and walk at the same time? I look at her. She is staring blankly ahead, playing with her strands like she does when her mind has overpowered her words. Wouldn't it be wonderful if heads were transparent for us to look into them?

She must be thinking something sad. I find her clutch my fingers a li'l tightly. She must have noticed it as she immediately loosened them. I pretend to not notice but then I am concerned. Just the thought that she has a fear that she isn't willing to share with me angers me, but then all I can do is stay with her and hope she doesn't push me away.

And then, like everytime I meet her, it's a Good-bye. 

I hug her and feel, even for a brief moment, that I am home. And then magically, it starts to rain again. 

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1 comment:

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Aurindam Mukherjee