For T (who showed me that I am an artist)
Let’s run away and play on the beach
And build sand castles while bathing in sunlight.
Let’s play with the waves and chase them while giggling, splashing water and toppling over each other
And then run back like crazy when they chase us.
Let’s walk on the shore while the sun sets, stare into the horizon and simply ponder in silence
And let the silence speak for once, interrupted by nothing else but the waves.
In the night, we shall build a fire, and tell stories of far off lands
So many stories!
Stories of desire, stories of power
Stories of love, anger and hate
Stories of secrets and open wounds
Stories of laundered linen, and the blood on them
Stories of the cup on the window-sill, stories of the language of the sun
Stories of us being the universe.
(I don’t want to like you girl, and you’re making it hard for me)
Stories of uncontrollable feelings and desires
Of urges and of connections
Of clicks, switches and chemistry
Of resistance, ambiguity, losing oneself and finding it all again
Of fluidity and maybe this free verse?!
(Because liking people is too much work. It is taking a risk. I usually prefer apathy.)
But sometimes, I want to, just feel. Simply feel things and walk on edges
You being one such instance.
Not as safe as apathy I know, but I like this excitement
For what charm does apathy have?
(Convenience. Although I’m trying my best to take little risks and live again.)
Sigh! But, convenience simply brings monotony. As for taking risks, maybe I should just do you.