Ooo my love Let you not miss… This pre wedded moon Of tonight Cause u may not find The same night The same star The same nip in the air The same moon rushing through thousand clouds Turbulating and restless To anneal the virginity of this pre wedded moon Cause after this moon U will be you Me will be me But not the same….
As she bath she remembers, How had she been, So ignorant of herself, Never to look at mirror.. Was the fate of her face… Never to be free of tangles, Was the fate of her hair, skin left unnourished, aah what kind of a women is she? ever blissfull, self contained, bubbly, charming, and above all a free spirit, and now that her body as all perfume, skin as silk, pouts so lusidious, hair as cascade… she wonders if she lost herself in this pre wedded moon?
He arrives at her door to shake off his chilling memories of betrayal, disgust and even lush warmth…. He seems sheltered ….. At peace… the nomad in him is accepted and appreciated…. He is amused for he expects nothing…. …. She exists as air surrounding him…. As overlapping emotions their existence overlap each other…. synced to each other… he gives himself to this sync… expects nothing but her surround… silent patient and calm… sooths his soul sooths his wounds … no rush… to fawn him… he is on exile from memories and she has none. He needs rest while she runs…. Yeh she runs…She runs to shake him for she can’t take his unnerving silence. He wraps her to be wrapped by her… shuts her earnest eyes in his cloistering hand …To offer one has to have something in possession …. As he offers all “what is left” she wonders what is the meaning of “all what is left”. The bed sheets are sullied and piano has thick layer of dust on it…. For her to clean and make new for herself…. She would make do… she would cause it cleanses her soul in return… her candid, simple and zero memory soul… she always existed devoid of memories and he was the one to lure her to the slippery path of nurturing emotions and cherishing memories. she refuses to take “what is left”. Wonders….. Can it be nurtured “what is lost”…. “Given to someone”….. never to return. It is to be brought back or nurtured again for sure for he doesn’t exist without the immense capability to love, he once possessed...... Rare glimpses of which she sees but can’t catch.... it will have to bloom again ........ as she deserves her share of it
They always look at me passing by… Yeh a head turner I am… When I walk pass they turn to me… Never fail to see me… try identifying if I am the same…. They saw last time… Aah the stare…. Not one not two but endless…. Sea of faces looking at me… Limlight they say…. Centerstage they say…… But I know the truth…. The very reason they look at me….
Its just that my walk is just a bit less feminine…. as I am always told.... a bit less feminine.... still they all roam around buzz me like bees to nectar.....