Loner

     The wine cascaded down the lonely throat; I gulped a breath of            fresh air to bully the liquid within me. 

At 47 I was a percolating prosecutor of young flesh. My roving eye ferries across the noisy pub to seep my prey for the night.


The intoxication always breed a mood of nostalgia, And I returned nights after night in semi permeable attires to asphyxiate my pain. The dancing bodies, the rhythmic giggles and the world didn’t ever give me the scope to be theirs, and I lurked in a corner waiting to be taken …


Taken to befriend the bed, taken to satisfy the sexual fantasies of the juvenile, taken to be a piece of sheer perusal for the night.


the first time I had felt a degree of dissonance, when stripped of my virginal assets...I had sniveled in fetal pose for days but initial exploitation numbed my emotions and made me what I was today. I drag my flesh towards exit and walk into the red mustang to smolder in the arms of the rustic for tonight.

Beautiful Malice

He looked into my eyes studded with that corporeal craving…I easily touched him on the chin and revolved around to be engulfed in a mist of love.

We have our moments of togetherness in the moisture laden breeze within the light-house .Years it had been our sojourns away from the stoic world. I had lived lives within these walls. We had our moments of seclusion, outlet for carnal desires, and woven tapestry of future together right here.

His hands touch me on my back, slowly guiding my sensuality to transcend the guards and blend in his aroma, I knew his moves, I knew his desires like always .Bodies tied down by some invisible force he magnetizes my body with his passionate kisses, uninhibited I groove with the flow as if this is the very last time we are making out.

I take him in my arms, kiss him so hard that the twinkle in his eyes say it all..He wanted more of me now, in his lusted form he was mine. Silently his saliva stricken tongue glides through my ears and he whispers the most beautiful words…”luv u my luv” I rotate to the sounds of the sea and push him of the top, silently watching his body fall down…down..Into the sea.

For seconds I feel a bang of pain deep within. Till his conduct walk in to my thoughts….didnt he kill me when he was sleeping with that lowly seductress from his Office. His deed kills me every second of the day I just killed him once in an impetuous act of solace seeking.

This was malice beautifully braided within me …

Closing my thoughts I sashay down the stairs and melt in the shadows of the crowd far away.

Eminence

I wake up to hustle of my son in the dining . I had been late today ,this continuous sleepless nights were taking their toll on me.I rush throwing the sheets on the floor,I desperately  needed to see my child before he leaves for his classes.

But, as a strike of lightning I retreat back,Its always this feeling of ambiguities ruling my cognizance these days that I fail to decipher the eminence of my presence in my loved ones life .

I wringer myself , will my death make any difference to my son ? The answer was quick and sanguine.

"No".... Busy he was in his own world of imaginings , he had a father with intact bank balance and he had nothing to worry about.His days began with posh cars ,sailed smooth with credit cards .
What need did he have with a mother ?
Then I look at bed , sleeping curled up within the sheets is the man I spent twenty-five fruitful years of my life managing his emotions to his clandestine desires.I did every possible thing on my part to be there with him.I re-question myself all over again "Will my absence matter to him ?"
"No"...With his business creeping to frontiers beyond reach , he has too much to take care of , a lonely weeping lady isn't his best business bargain.

I pirouette within my forlorn thoughts.Is this the life that I dreamt about ? Is the life that I want?
 But who really understands all this when this is what I am fated to live.

I weep again in my desolate world,till sunshine from the windows afflicts my thoughts.

Photo credits:www.betterphoto.com