Sometimes I wonder if I will ever touch you but with these words. Words that fill the infinite whiteness of the screen and emptiness of my life. In a technologically powered relationship, that’s all I have. Words, quickly tip- tapped on a keyboard. I try to give them soul, bring them to life. add flavor to them, try to see your zest and humor in them, the charm, the seductive laugh , the warmth that trickles down the spine and makes me forget that I have knees.
I try to feel the fits of kindness, your bouts of rage, the maddening rush inside you that electrifies each pore , each cell of your body when you type those words at an alarming pace, a pace quicker than your racing heartbeat, try to make them as intimate and sentimental as they can ever be. I turn them into thoughts and make love to them, smudge them with tears, trace my fingertips over the neatly arranged lines, feel you with my finger tips in them. I linger over each syllable and watch it pulsate with hunger or thirst. I feel my fingerprints merge with yours and feel your touch. I take a dip in them with you.
I get drunk on those words, wait for them to flash on the screen as text, IM, email, on FB, Messenger app. and let them have their way with me. The way it would have been with you. I take them to bed, fold them and tuck them inside my heart, and carry them where ever I go. What if one day we were suddenly removed from these modern gadgets of conveniences? These words will be all that we will have to hold on to.
Although words bridge the distance between us, I still yearn for a handwritten note from you, a picture I can hold in my hands and place upon my ravaged heart. That is till I have something better than words. Till we create a deeper play than words can. They will do till then, though they fall short for want of the exact emotion/feeling they should evoke at certain time. Keep writing to me so we can be together. Something that in reality only time will tell.
Let the words be personified into us. Let them conjure up the flesh for that’s what they are meant to do in your absence. Let them be your figures, your tongue, your damp body resting against mine. Let them sustain me in such times of hunger just as your voice does. Let them hand feed me the longings, the secrets, the desires that nothing else but your touch can do. Let me amble on the delicate assembly of vowels and give them your voice. Let us stay wrapped in the warmth of the wordrobe around our bodies. Let them lean over my shoulder and whisper what you have no courage to give sound to. Let them nibble at my earlobes and bite my mouth with hungered teeth. Let them slide into the folds of my body. Let them still my heart. Let them melt between my legs. Let them run through my hair as your fingers would and trail behind my ear down the nape of the neck and all the way to the small of my back.
Let us map the topography of our body, mind and soul through them. Patiently with love.
Maybe this burning patience will some day lead to splendid happiness, till then let words water our dreams.
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A Blogadda Tangy Tuesday Pick.