“Mr Poet, will you ever really love?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Jason. I fall in love almost every night.”

“Haha! That’s why you end up staining all those pages with ink, huh?”

“Well, we stain each other first in love and then write stories.”

“You and your fantasies.”

“Cheers, old friend.”

I got out of the bar, it was raining, the best kind of night in Los Angeles. Rain is rare in the city, but tonight was special. I walked slowly, feeling each drop that hit my face. The sky was alive, crying all the way to rejoice. The road was empty, the streets were held by the cold winds.

A girl stood towards the end of the road. She was still, I could only see her back, a blue robe flying with the wind. Her head was covered by the cloth extending from the dark blue robe. She stood still, one in the depressed lot. Everybody was depressed, but she could be smiling in madness too, her story held a strong vibe and I was pulled. She turned around and her eyes caught me in the skip of the second.

Blue, bright, I wonder if she was crying, but when the world cries, we can hide in the frame of time.

“Are you alright?”

She kept her sneer alive, no words travelled the air except mine. She stepped towards me, blue approaching the dark in the night. Her intentions never lived and my fear had died. Her lips overlapped my mind and I was kissing the rain tasting of wine. We ran, could fly, but the sound of the legs flattering through the water had a sense of delight. A narrow street alone in disguise waited for the light. We kissed and the thunder broke its might.

Each kiss became louder than the rain. My heart could suck out her pain. Not only the wet cover of her body was blue, but her dying sight, like the sharp poison of the dying night. I tore apart the lies on her chest, a quill tattoed on her heart, a heart held still in the dark. She stared at the thunder hitting my eyes.

“I am dying.”

My words never came to life, we kissed away the misery in our mind. The clouds fell down with her cloak, as I kissed the essence of her breast. My lips felt cold as if an immortal held my core. The streets died, the stars had committed suicide. Dark had enveloped the light in my eyes. Blind.

In the void of my desire, I held her in my mind. I could not feel my skin, numb till the silent scream of the divine. A shiver ran through my chest as I saw two blue crystal burning away my blind. Demons of the dark canopies, dancing with my soul, claiming the skies.

“I am dying.”

Some clouds had left the sound of her cries. We kissed away her life, a melody so dark that my ink could not survive. I was laying on the ground, looking at the moon. The blue had nerved my darkness into doom.

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12 thoughts on “Only Ink In Between Life and Death

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