Second Part (1st doesn't hold anymore)
"Come! Take me... Devastate me... all of me."
I wanted to be reminded. I wanted you to remind me how the simple and seemingly trivial things could be unnerving and spine-tickling if done for or by someone significant.
I bet making a hot cup of coffee from a lone 3&1 sachet is lifetimes better than brewing freshly harvested coffee beans if it is for my heart of hearts' drinking pleasure.
I imagined you walking towards our corner, towards me, beaming with your blinding grin, arms fully extended wanting to capture me between them, wanting to hold me, wanting to be held by me.
I imagined me, you, us sharing that minute corner in seas of faces stealing time away from the world. The shortest of my imaginary ticks lingered longer than the actual hours with you because we were blessed with nil to none of it.
I looked up clasping the fast-defusing hope in my heart that I'd see you, but I never did. You were never there, and you never came. You didn't heed my call; in fact, you never heard it because you never listened or you were listening to something else.
The night closed in fast. I stood with a sore back from sitting on that less than comfortable bench which is quietly poised at our corner. I lift one foot after the other. In no time, I was the center of the universe and light years away from your constellation.
I had a panoramic view of the dance floor, a space with articles of clothing barely in their proper places, tightly clinging on skins with sweat and cologne and what have you.
I danced. I loosened a bit and let my inhibitions fall like the strap of my dress nudging my bare left shoulder. Music ran through me; waves of pulsating beats took me by the spine. I moved my feet, torso and arms without conferring with my brain.
There, in front of the glowing me, amidst the galaxy of bodies swirling around it, an infinite space narrowed by your absence. I saw everything other than you because you, my zephyr/zilch, is only a graphic product of my imagination.
I'll be dancing...
©Grace Ramos
" I have recorded all of our conversations in my mind, kept and placed secret like a little tiny box you put your precious things in, things that would not matter to anyone but me. All the talks, those little reminders, even those occasional banter and petty arguments. It was all held tightly in a box by a golden bow. Sealed and protected. I just knew it will come true. Someday."
ReplyDeletecan I just share something you said to me...it might not jive with this one but here goes:
ReplyDeletein an age when mediocrity rumbles among waves of faces pretending to be real people, it’s tempting to sink one’s teeth on the next succulent inviting flesh. but just like how a friend puts it, “there are a lot of mediocre things in life..love, of all, shouldn’t be one of them.”
jiamishka: "...It was all held tightly in a box w/ a golden bow..." Sounds me eons ago. Mine now is more like sealed and buried from plain sight.
ReplyDeleteavaavs: I said this? When? Sounds like back in my despondently idealistic days. Should hold though if only thoughts were about love, but I guess not.