Saturday, February 7, 2009



(Neighbour grinningly parts, lad now truly left to himself. Closes his eyes, hears nothing. No music, no song, no voice, no chit-chat, no murmur, no shriek, no guffaw… He just hears a recital. His recital… Following one last look at the girl, just to make sure he had her perfectly sketched in his mind. Words set to start the song…)

Is it the cover of your curls

all about your face?

Or the freshness you felt,

that you so liberally dealt,

in form of a

monologue embrace?

Oh trust me, what I feel

is no flickering phase!

But should I get up

off my bed,

Should I go ahead,

and ask my question?

Or should I rest my case…?

I have lost

the power to choose,

knocked down

without a single bruise,

It’s completely your call;

To lift me high,

well off the ground

or to let me fall…

Free – Fall…

(He leans again upon the head-rest so much that his head becomes almost upside down, with his neck stretching up to its elastic limit. He smiles as he thinks of elastic limits – particularly because it isn’t Physics that’s in play over here… It’s Chemistry)

No comments: