Longings (Prose)

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In every murmurs of twilight till dawn, I hug meticulously the folded quilt, inhaling deep the absent relish of musk, your favorite cologne. Caressing each crease, I treasure the warmth of you, steadily sighing desires, I timidly squeeze myself to sleep in the cold, the moon gleaming milky dreams into me and I jump at every cricket’s breath, believing, my pillow is you…

Soaked pillow, cold blanket and half empty bottle of vodka, makes me realize you are only a vague inclination now in my brain; that’s stubborn to never forget…you or any memories that builds in my gullible heart. What can be done and said is long gone, as your footsteps started to fade from my shores of hope. Gliding through the water is a seahorse, waving at me with a face drawn to look happy but the eyes shining onyx declaring the wound is eternal.

Each passing seconds is a torture, etching stories of what could have been if you still hold my hands, where will we be if you was here in my bed, what will we do if you cling on to me. Erasing it off, I feel a part of me ripped apart. But, I must move on, resilient, for the one of us.

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