We met at a trip down the memory lane.
I first saw her standing under the crimson sky. The setting sun was showering its colour on her face, or maybe She was just blushing as she had caught me staring at her.
I gathered my courage, went to her, asked her if she fancied a glass of wine later that evening.
She agreed and my heart skipped a beat or two.
She was dressed in the words of angels; beautifully. She smelled of musk and rusty books, faint but so sweet. A thing of beauty she was, indeed.
We talked and laughed and all that while she played with the strand of hair that were falling from her braid, so gracefully that it set my heart on fire.
I wanted to touch her, feel her skin on mine, hold her tight and make her mine, moreover I wanted to write her.
I gave her hints, she pretended surprised or maybe she just heard my sighs. Then she looked up, her eyes met mine. I was swept off of my feet as she winked. Having put my devilish smile, I took her hand and pulled her close, and I stole my first kiss of a poem. She tasted of watermelons and cocaine; sweet and addictive.
I watched her undressing every layer of emotions that she was made of.
I caught a glimpse of heaven and hell, all at once.
Finally it was time, I embraced her, caressed her gently. She whispered “Write me, Love. Please.” She pleaded.
Her whispers and sighs took me a place, I was unaware of: untouched, serene. Utopic it was. Wasting no time I laid her on paper and then flying in the nebula of emotions, I wrote her.
And I wrote her hard.
Our souls intertwined, rolling on the paper and rolling so hard that it left imprints of our love on it.
Our moans echoed in rhythm and they were rhyming as if if it was song of people longing for love.
I kept writing and rewriting her until the dawn broke and we were done.
There I was, laying on the left side of my bed: breathless, restless, just trying to look at her staring at me, smiling and reminiscing about the time we had last night.
The look of tranquility and contentment on her face was telling me, that it wasn’t over just yet.
It wasn’t just a One Night Stand.
By- Akash Sawle.