KISS OF A LILAC

As she faded away in non-existence
A hug came to me in fantasy
Few sparkles of ceremonious giggles
Lighting up chrysanthemum in a little glass

“You are among my cluster of thoughts”
In a garden of metered maleficence
A true embodiment of gifted lilac
Entrusted by the heart on it’s bloom

Impertinent and immoral, wasted by cruelty sweet
I took a quick glance before the eyes would meet
Proudly I dared look into her compressed mirror
Colors bounced between convex edges

Artful than the impression that Gogh did forget
Menacingly beautiful as she took the turn
A celibacy of uncountable dark attractions at that
A pact of resentful urgencies that cluelessly burn

Puppet intentions, I took a peel of what I could take
The soft edges of mysticism exchanged by a shake
As she curled into his pages, stinging with her straight hair so folly
Her eyes showed the way towards Eden, spreading enamour so jolly

“I love her like anything”, greeneries of thought
A penitent displeasure in the breath
It’s solemnly not a vague plethora
Of any melancholia given to perfection
Strings of euphony lusted in ceremony
Laughter of agony kissed through obscurity

He knew she violated second to none
The edged mistress etched into crimson
The shining black eyes of a liason
With a look that left all red in sensation

The stranger gave another smile
As she ravaged the heart of no return
Skillfully her slender nature took position
Moulding in between while she caressed away
She moved her penchant eyes and searched territory
A discovery properly dressed to be found
The lush hair that left you in dementia
Maroon-ed me ebony, circumstances stood still
Her inner skin touched till fury emerged pointless
Sin brightly crept from behind, curves on their faces
Cloaked in delight, aroused by the stir of salvation
Scared past her ambiguity, cursed by self-domination

As her dark effervescence brightened the path
The solemn moments took it’s first wrath
Supple merriment that passed completely bathed
As he moved through her neck, the sweet shrieks left him unscathed

The innocence that penetrated into the depths of cynicism
The satanic thirst of the angel so pure in contradiction
Descant followed her light feet, each step into melancholia
The lilac jested it’s fragrance, stamped me with her insignia

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The First Time

The day when you saw her the first time. The first one obviously. The second one is beautiful, smart, pleasurable and great too but we all know that thing about the first.

Well the situation usually starts with something like this:

“I love her okay!! Noone look at her until I break up with her after I get her or I am over her after I don’t. So what I do now? Oh wait I told you not to look sorry. First order cancelled. Look at her like anything but that and tell me what to do.”

Okay perhaps I am kidding, that happens with me more. Okay! Okay! just me.

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Now let’s say it takes a few……okay let’s not be too subtle. Lots of moments of peril and finally you get that perfect moment where chances are greater.

Now the grand moment that all of you have been yearning for. The moment when he finally says it. Like the idiot finally stops dawdling around and ruining the climatic moments every time with a ridiculous excuse or temporary plot change.

“I love you”

“You really mean a lot to me.”

“I like you a lot.”

Whichever lines or paragraphs it may have been. Point is, it was utterly romantic. And now:

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“Yes! I love you too.”

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Dammit! Tears of pride and joy! Oh my god! Can you feel the happiness and hear some extremely romantic song playing?

Beautiful! A sight to see. They kiss. They cuddle. Years go by as it gets serious. Their love takes them to the next level.

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Ladies and gentlemen, I give you babies!

For legal purposes, they venture into the marriage court.

“Bro you have a great life. Beautiful wife, a cute kid and a happy marriage”

Okay so that was one life. Another is they break up before the next level.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the period of enlightenment.

Either via problems or it’s on mature terms. Let’s choose the latter in the next life.

We realize that it was special irrespective of whether it’s gone or if it stayed, it was the “first time” and nothing beats it. The cough from your first sip of vodka, the first time you fell on the ground, the other first time and yes, your first kiss. The second doesn’t come close.

Now if you didn’t get her, that’s a very long, and depressing story for a day we’ll devote to crying.

P.S. If they break up like after fifteen-sixteen years of marriage, let’s just say that happens too but they both know how much of worth their first time was.