maybe.

There are so many things in the world that are just, inevitable .

So many dreams we want to follow .

So many questions of accusation .

So many guilt running through the body .

To be true ,

How often do you realize that all the things you say are gonna come back at you out of the blue ?

How often do you feel like surrendering ?

You know truth is like an oblivion ,once it has happened , it cannot be undone .

It’s a Sunday morning , warm breeze of summer , cloudy day not that much of heat , maybe just because it is 7:04  a.m.

She’s awake , she makes herself some coffee sits down on the bean bag she bought the day ago with him . She’s pale , her lips parted, long fingers short nails , painted with transparent enamel , she’s holding a medium sized mug , white with peach embellishment designs . She’s wearing this pure cotton camisole with casual pants . She has a habit if ticking the mug with her finger like trying to reminisce . Maybe she is, maybe she is reminiscing about him about the fight they had the day before in the mall , maybe she is sad because she turned the vibrant mood to a grey pain . Maybe , maybe not .

She puts the mug on the table picks up the phone that was charging .

“100%” it shows . She unlocks the phone with her fingerprint goes to the application “WhatsApp”, opens the chat with contact named “Jake” , checks his last seen .

“last seen today at 1:54.”

Puts the phone down .

She didn’t check the phone for another  2 hours , then a message pings up .

“ Maybe it had been better if we did not meet Susan. I’m leaving for LA. Bye .”

She checks puts it back . Shuts it down and cries .

A year later again I see her , ticking the mug sitting on the bean bag .

Paris - chapter 1

I was standing on pont des arts. 
Admiring the locks and thinking , I can't put mine on it.
No one can anymore.

Drowning in my thought, I saw you,
You, you were wearing an old ripped denim with a t-shirt from Tommy Hilfiger. Oh, those red and blue stripes.
You were smoking a cigarette on a fall evening,
You, were anything but what I wanted you to be,
You were wretched, you were open minded but close hearted.
You walked up to me as I stared, stood beside me, looking at the same lilac sky . 

"Isn't it beautiful?",  you said stamping the cigarette.
"What is?", I asked tucking my coat close to me, it was cold.
"The weather, inside of you." , he said .

I had nothing to say, I was so drawn to you, still not knowing why we did whatever we did.

Maybe we were in love.

twining in you

Same old wretched love,

Crushing of souls, rushing of blood.

Standing under that blue blossom,

Nourishing my heart, drenching in dopamine.

You pulled me close holding my waist,

Exposing your tattoo, unicorn.

You touched my cheeks with your long fingers,

Put behind my hair.

You touched my parched lips,

Rendering me naked.

We kissed long,

Got inside our bedroom.

We got naked,

Her tongue traced my body to places I’ve never been.

I felt so passionate, so young, so new,

The glasses of wine fell on the ground.

The mattress was wet and so was I,

She poured the wine in my mouth, from hers.

She pulled my hair in her hand,

Kissed my neck.

I still feel the warmth of her breath on my neck,

Still feel the same thirst.

For some good old cherry wine.

//twining in you//