Sharing some writings
The Horizon
The horizon had already turned reddish as I sat quietly in my long balcony avidly holding evaporating steamy coffee in a long ornamented cup you had gifted on my birthday. Love had been engraved deeply in my heart. The emblazoned sun was lingering, trailing from tranquilized Far East. Today is Thursday, the day you firmly promised to show up.
The day, when for the first time, I joined to learn salsa being a recluse I squealed into a corner. You were dancing when all of a sudden you halted, walked towards me and clasped my hand. With the clank of instruments overflowing the vibes, ignoring staring eyes, we walked out and sat in a column outside the building.
Dismayed, however trust mellowed affright in my heart and stood profoundly anchored. You asked my name, then cracked jokes. Though startled, I never forgot to laugh. Unveiling bashfulness revere surfaced and hailed romance. The days passed; ardent passion nested somewhere amply hatched; sumptuously filling constellation of dreams and blossomed alike. On my birthday we checked into a small room in an old inn. Predilection ripened into rapacious voracity in lust. Your rigor turned high as the storming heat in your veins raged on me. On a dilapidated cot we found asylum in cold night.
The storm retreated leaving everything in lull and our sticky skin soaked in sweat. Today you promised to arrive after a long year in Boston. The waves are still high in me. So are the tides of lust.
I still yearn for that moment.
