On a pale day with where I wore remorse as an ornament on my right wrist, a sunny feeling greeted me with it’s unexpected silence and half smile.
“What’s wrong? “ I asked him repeatedly and his silence grew deeper every time the question came up. “If you’re so sleepy, why did you come to see me?” I asked.
His reply was a gesture that was enough to turn this city into a poem written by Rumi. The kind of a poem that exaggerates the romantic relationship between two star-crossed lovers and leaves behind all the political idiosyncrasies one by one. Our one-hour together fled like a river falling off a cliff. He kept his warm head on my lap and murmured, “Silence is filling me up right now, it’s too much effort to speak. Please understand.”
From my terrace, we appreciated the polluted sky. After all, it’s all we had. I looked away thinking about another place. He stared at me hard with confusion. He himself had no idea as to why he came to see me in such drowsiness.
I felt his neck with my smoke ridden fingers. I was restless. I had been feeling restricted. A part of me felt alive with perpetual dissatisfaction.
He moved his head up and faced me. Both of us, victims of loneliness and slaved to our humanness.
We hate living in the city. We hate the constant buzz of it.
Enveloped in his drowsiness, I started to comfort him. One thing led to another and his mouth reminded me of a dream forgotten. His hands felt like a farmer sowing seeds and his cum tasted like his absence. Strangely nice.
Before I could collect myself before him, stillness hit us. His half smile turned into a light sigh. He walked away and I pleaded him to come sit next to me. The beer was hot now. My mind brimmed with words to say that would only come out on paper.
I came back to my room and wrote this. He’s somewhere drinking our time together, trying to make sense of it and I will stay awake another night.