Monday, January 19, 2015

BLUEPRINTS OF AN ABSENT LOVER

I feel the warmth of his kiss on my flushed face. The slightest trace of saliva, imperceptible, makes a damp impress on the indented spot of my forehead where his kiss, traversing time, imprints indelibly its impression of purity.
My fingers trace the wry pucker of his lips. My forefinger runs around a smooth rind of skin which is flecked with foams of moisture. I press upon its centre with the thumb and a dampness seeps through the skin, wrinkling it. I plant on that thumb the imprint of my dry lips. A kiss, like ink on paper, spreading like filigree wrinkles across the circumference of my thumb to my entire body, irradiating me.
My hands flick through his neck length hair.As i peregrinate their silken waves my fingers alight on his stubble. Their raspy abrasions send currents of electricity coursing through me. My hands tremble and he, cognizant of my passion, turns over my face in his hands and kisses me.
Absence. Valediction. Commemorate. Moments. Preciosity.
I miss him. He is missed by me. I enable myself to miss him. His absence enables myself to miss him. He is gone now .
Why he left is a conjecture though i can, but only, guess.
What is the point of my guessing as it doesn't lead anywhere.
He loved Said illusion shattered reality inveigled
'In the gaps you fill the story' I say
'What story?' you ask softly
'Why, the story of my life'. I limply assert
And you take me in your arms.
He has wept in my arms today because he has faced a disappointment in love which is traumatic because i can discern when he tells me thus that it is the story of his life as to how the absence of the one he loved leads him to recall those moments of preciosity which in the absence of any concrete continuance of to him can only lead him to commemorate them.
A hen clucks about, fishing for a grain of corn amid the vegetable refuse. A sow reposes gently, langorously, her gargantuan physiognomy counterpointed by her lassitude. Flowers sway their heads, opening up their petals to the warm sun. The waves sparkle with oleaginous specks of foam wetting the shoreline.
I never realized that in comforting him i'd fall in love with him.
I have fallen in love all over again.

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