Floors of broken mosaic. Shut hazy windows of white. Strings of clothes hung and forgotten. Stacks of books scattered, in a very impatient design. Names of authors, blank and staring out of hard bound covers. Sometimes illegible in the faint lit darkness. Behind locked doors lives months of unused grocery and a space. A space where souls are caged and souls are freed. Alone together. Together alone.

Love and lust never coexisted as such. She could never be overcome by the need to devour someone she loved. For love was one naive, childlike emotion. Filled with unconditional longing. Lust, on the other hand, is the awakened frenzy of sleepless nights. It is the simultaneous desire to devour and protect. An unlikely amalgamation of making love to, and then leaving the subject limp and lifeless. Love and lust never could be together that way, in her heart.

But in this space, where souls are caged and souls are freed, the two forces have momentarily merged. Become into one.

Hence, when she merges with its mauve walls, sinks into the wooden arms of furniture, he becomes her and vice versa. Reticence leaves them and un-muted, they feel their tongues for the first time and begin to talk. Converse. Unearth their minds, erase borders, coagulate, flow again, diverge converge and submerge. Be together in their minds, more than in their bodies. And lose themselves in a shallow mental orgasm.

This space, makes them, infinite, out of their bounds, super-humans they are doomed to be. For a span of time, seemingly everlasting, and yet inconsequentially momentary. This being the only space, in the whole entire cosmos, where, Love Lust & Talking blend in shamelessly spew magic

1 comment:

Krish said...

Can understand that me it is usually a confused mess.