see you walking, no, gliding across the club teetering amidst gyrating
bodies who move with the vibe of the club which seem to have come alive
this evening with music being its pulse. You stop, smile, talk, laugh
and move on the floor gracefully dancing to a rhythm that makes sense
only to me.
Or is it my imagination that I find synchrony in my
heartbeats and your movements across the dance floor?
When our eyes
meet, the glass in my hand starts to slip and I continue to look into
your eyes across bodies flaying hands and legs and hips and I
distinctly hear the tinkling sound of glass shattering on floor and a
guy standing next to me yelling - "f**k you moron".
The pull that I
feel towards you is magnetic; its either that or its my desire fuddled
brain which makes me sober enough to provide me with fleeting glances
of pages of sappy poetry which explained the connection shared by two
individuals. You know, I actually Googled the color of your eyes and I
got eighty four f**king million hits on that and by the time I finished
first eighteen pages, I realized that no one had come nearly close to
explaining the right shade of your eyes.
This was never part of the grand plan; falling in love that is.
are times when I want to give into the sweet surrender and declare my
love to you in the most romantic way. I would perhaps start with
courting you and inviting you for expensive dining, tasteful
entertainment and gentle kisses. And when I would lean in really close
to get that proverbial kiss on the porch, perhaps that would allow me
to get a closer glimpse of your eyes and give me enough time to count
the exact number of freckles on your nose. Perhaps it is a good way.
you know what? It sounds like a bloody cosmic joke. Anti-thesis of what
As I walk towards you all the romantic things that my heart
keeps singing sounds like load of bullshit and I come up with a plan
that is more feral, more primal and more us. Here we are, at a party,
where we keep up the masks that we wear in front of the crowds, we
follow the charade that we have been doing all these while and when at
the first stroke of midnight I will drag you from this club and drive
you away and make love to you till you bleed. And then I will look into
your eyes with you staring back to mine with equal fervor and then I
would be able to explain every shade of color that I see and map out
every tiny little freckle on your nose.
And then I might tell you how much I love you.
Edited by Sookie* - 25 November 2009 at 8:56am