She slapped him with a song. It swung him into a never-ending spin, even the shabbiest of things turned beautiful like how Midas's touch turned everything gold. Then he started hating everything that was happening around, because 'everything rosy and beautiful' is a little too much to handle. It kind of appeared so bland and the flavor was slowly fading. She read his mind, and blew kisses from her sweet mouth. No exaggeration - his heart did feel the heaviest blow, like how a pilot would explosively propel himself out of the aircraft - having mistakenly pressed the eject button.
He was going up and up in the skies, his stomach tickling, thought he would die after a while when gravity would pull him down into abyss. But a parachute opened up, and held him floating in the air. She was clearly observing his state of mind and all that she could do was - giggle and laugh. He remembered a Henry Miller quote which said - 'There's something perverse about women, they're all masochists at heart.' Yes, it did hurt, but still he found it all beautiful. So sacredly and so erotically beautiful - both at the same time.
It is true, love plays dangerous games with your soul. Until the day you exorcise all the demons that hide in the dark, every little move will haunt you. And it is not good for a person to stay inside a haunted house for long, or it might derange one's being. But however gravely bad the surroundings and the circumstances might appear, howsoever screwed up the logic - that forms the basis of our society - might sound, can you really separate the fragrance from the flower? Can. You?
No comments:
Post a Comment