Sylph

It was no ordinary love. A glass filled with curiosity, confusion and enigmatic attraction. In the moments of stranded solitude he picked her hair..one by one..each strand showing signs of simplicity, each moment carried. Looking behind the veil of suspended black seraphic beauties he saw her smile.

It must be the fogginess of the voice that was transpiring between the dull silent night and the signature of dawn. It was unsure whether it meant breaking out or in.  The lure of past or present or sublime future, as he was about to leave.

Every second of the carousal seems to have married the ghosts of hollowness that time carried with itself. Inebriated with the jinx of her smell. Her drifting smile was punching away the memoirs of viscous shyness.

Unsettled, and so not satisfied was the need of being together as it was felt. Pauses were making conversation with mind and heart.

“It seems there are lot many things that occupies your life and there are so many things you love “, she complained. “Perhaps I am your last love”, she conjured. It was never easy for her to submit herself to “forever”. It was also never so difficult for her to condemn the honor of “never”. Every breath of her played with the percussion of solemn vows they had taken together sometime in midst of perpetual longness

He looked at her with sudden vicious smile hinting everything about a secret alchemic stone he was just about to bring forward. The power of which, would claim the spatial existence of all the elements between them. It was not an outcry, it was a suggestion. It was not desperation but exasperation. It was not hope but a belief…

” You know what! Those are the things I am sure I love to do , as they bring me joy..but you don’t know one thing my love.. you are the only thing whose absence makes me cry”

The time appeared to turn and churn with her hair. She looked back at him with the innocence of a new born child..and..and she smiled…

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