Archive for the ‘communication’ Category

Blackened sky.
Stretching beyond distance; as far as continents stretch apart.
One blackened sky,
Sheltering you and I
Across the same continents that ripped us apart.
And we linger…
Beyond the eyelids
That shelter you in me; and myself into you…
As we float, on a barely existent moon,
Fading into the same blackened sky
That is yet to shelter you and I.

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In Appreciation, I write, not in remorse.

To and for a time so timeless,

Sentences, scattered in structure, disrupted in its sense of sense, yet humbled by the feeling that triggered the urge to write in the first place.

I write,

Till I’m drained empty.

Till the words squeeze into sour juices of meanings.

I write and write,

Till the heaviness is gone, shedding layers of me within layers of paper, squirting blue ink of my royal blood from a loaded pen… That still drips

And I still write,

Dispersed letters, grouped only to be distorted upon a thought, that reforms then dissolves…

Into canals of clogged memory lanes, superimposing timelines from different times.

And the pen still drips,

What lips failed to speak, of the relics a crippled heart keeps…

Onto papers,

That never really existed.

One, two, three, four…

The beat echos in the emptiness of herself.

One, two, three, four…

An arid breath flows into her. She glides through…

Eyes closed, hands in the correct posture; she embraces the vacancy between her arms.

She swings, gripping the emptiness that flows between her fingers. Her steps slide, a lock step. She sways, an inside turn, an outside turn… She drags herself, a walk.

One, two, three, four…

A Chasse.

One, two, three, four…

Dos-a-dos.

One, two, three, four…

The air whirls as she moves. Memories flash…

She swirls, and  loses herself between what was and what could be.

She floats upon the emptiness she holds close, only to drown into it.

One, two, three, four…

The pace slows down.

One, two, three, four…

She melts. The air she has molded into a dear significant is slowly vaporized, leaving mists of remembrance to dry on her cheeks.

“Saw your beauty and I kept in mind
Imagine your smell and touch
Imagine all of us”

Steal a glimpse.
Follow the eyes where they lead.
Pause,
Appreciate the silence…
That syncs two heartbeats together, that amplifies a trembling breath,
a sigh,
that escapes,
and diffuses into warmth.
Crawl aside, and within.
Trace, the outlines of her existence,
Slide upon sweaty palms,
Up to the edges of her face,
Watch her cheeks round up,
Blush,
in a faint demure…
As fingers roll over,
Tracing down her chin
And Up the lips
That presses letters of your name
Cheeks, rounding up in a faint blush of pink as a smile softly stretches across.
A name, pressed on lips of cherry red…
And it leaves a taste of subtle sweetness that seeps into relics of a restless mind.
A pounding heart, escapes a breath that floats strings of tangled hair, upon a lust; so feeble in its presence, so potent in its burning ache.
Eyes, shuttered, upon a figure as memories drain life into its existence.
Heart still pounds, name still pressed and lust still stings…
Yet I still deny myself the right to feel.
Anything, if anything at all.

Precious, you once were.

Precious, your memory is.

Precious, what I felt will always be.
If you have forgotten, I’m grateful memory has cast its mercy upon your ache of remembrance.
If you haven’t, like myself, I’m thankful memory has paved us a lane to meet… To steal a glimpse into a time, so timeless, before consciousness seeps guilt upon the forbidden pleasure we both never ceased to sin; remembrance.
I still remember,
because precious, I once promised to keep you.

You have been stuck in my memory for so long that you have become so rotten, even yet you show up quite often that your memory still lingers; so fresh.

This, I say…
In the abyss of remembrance; to and for a memory that with time grows yet so dear to my heart than it ever was. And do I owe it to sheer reminisce or rather to remorse that I do not know.

This, I say…
In a time so timeless; ticking back to reverse. And have I lost track of time because I have come so far or rather because I have never really stepped forward in the first place, that , also, I do not know.

And this, do I say out of craving or out of resentment?

I do not know.
I do not know.