On that frore dead of night of bleary and while on condoled walking, my heart had never trampled over my body that way. It was new to me. My arid hands that had always held bottles of liqueur and addictive thorns of cigars, started spouting dank butterflies. Even with, our hands enclosed much taut like a child fearful of being lost. As we walked our path seeming to last a short while, your skin grazed mine in euphoria. It felt perfect warm that I had only whimmed this picture to end not.
Cowed to break the charm of primordial gods, I gave in to your ways of silence. I gaped at you slyly, a face of no ifs, ands or buts being with me. All I could do was to bog down our speed of treading, hoping I could feel your hands any longer. Soon, you looked at me. I felt thawing as your eyes telling me to look back. You stopped a sudden. How far are we going? It played in loops ‘till angst in my heart. I’m daunted how far can we go. My hands were shaken, your eyes cajoling every inch of me for words. I held both your hands reaching your arms then back, ending with our bosom entwined. Aren't this enough?, I muttered.
Of course it is.
Then why you ask?
Just when I thought somehow everything I own smelled of you, your scent meekly slipped out of my esteemed memories. Now, everything I know of you flow past me everlessly. You were the person who thought me that love was never a choice, for I had to feel it more than anything else. When I had to blame myself for my frailties, you were there taking it. And I know for sure that the love I knew once will be different thereafter.
You were gone, you chose him over me without leave-taking litany. I would not mind as I had always been a sin for you; I had no right of my miserly intentions. My being was the most empty of all, engulfing you and so you could fill its expanse—a dreadfully romantic ambition. Still, your were the most sugar-coated tale I kept, that every time we may see each other now, I know there happened a mystery once. Love.
