The Reverse Love

fine steel grey evening it was and we met again under the bridge. For

the last time. Eyes exchanged the last ‘ how-did-I –ever-fell-for-you’

strange mélange of pain and regret and hate and loss , flushed the

cup of my mind so tired. Love-the extension of one’s self-shatters

like the other childhood myths and castles of adolescent dreams.

And an engulfing silence scares and delights the unmoving thoughts

Of never to see each other again. And we never saw each other again.

And as the days melted and flowed making the aching feelings emerge

From the stone of present, being engraved by who seems to be a

Perplexing friend –the time. Then we had our argument so fierce

The one which fractures the ground, and the heart yearns for

Emancipation. The deluded soul comes out of the box of enchantment

and you begin to wonder whether you even knew her at all , all

this while? The amusing clouds of mystery have retreated and

what is left behind is a blank sense of a dull dragged existence,

and the patterns of arguments swirl incessantly in the living

room with small coffee table and hung portraits of art which still

seem to be wet with the paints of your brush. Hurling blames at

each other like arrows ruining what used to be careless cozy Sundays

and it hurts to be possessed by solitude which comes closing in

like the faded plastered walls of the apartment which is flushed

by the light of the gloomy orange hue coming in from the arched

windows and causes decay of the space, the memories and me

the tarnished pages of a table calendar fell in order like the

red leaves of a sugar maple tree. And we had our first kiss

for the first time and the hovering lights of the coffee shop

blurred for that infinitesimal moment and it soon descended

into a reassuring realm where we unraveled each other’s

bodies like an expansive mystic book which never fails to

astound the senses. It was soon followed with indolent walks

along the river piers and the faint exhuberance of doing

absolutely nothing.

Within the vague confines of shallow obscurity

The ego boundaries of my psyche collapsed almost

Immediately when I saw the flouresecent face of hers

Under the rusted iron bridge.