How You Came Back...

I am surrounded by thoughts of myself.

Now, I am surrounded by thoughts of myself - thoughts both subliminal and vicarious; thoughts ecstatic and resentful; thoughts that delve and float.

Yes, thoughts of such a kind mother - of myself but not so.

I pricked my finger whilst whiling on the mason's work, the concrete that has your affluence since knew my lungs what air was.

'Twas not recognised, not right away.

It was so cold around me and the lane jutting from nowhere into this paving lies our residence in posed an ambience even colder with misty cream over the leaves of the mango trees that I barely bothered. Did my body jolt at the pinch? Not so. Still not so.

What was it that occupied your space in my mind? I do not know, or do not wish to tell.

What was it ranking me at my inmost core? Holy Lord! I got so close to despising you this time.

What shape it had, what colour, what sound, and what smell - alas! ALAS! Oh dear mother, was I transgressing the lines of my skin but stayed I in its propinquity of warm vapours. And I saw the fumes rise out of the tinsels when they were all blunt with no crevice to breathe from; 

Oh, dear mother, was I also blinded well for was there not more than single a tube that shone the glaze of a bright mirror. Whose light was it reflecting I wondered for 'twas not its own? Oh, how it captivated me! So must I call it a damn cheater! What a liar! Must I hate it for how I was enchanted, but see my predicament - just two shakes more and would my chest be so empty. Do you see, or was it the light of thy eyes? Well, the rays did not touch me. May thee breathe a sigh now;

The

Advertisement

re was no voice inside, not one. Can you believe it?

Music! on and on and on it went, everywhere a melody.

Damn this irony mother! Or may thou expound it -

I was falling in love whilst sensed I an injury of a child.

You cannot recall. They need not say it either. I do not ask for any admission.

May you cherish the dance and sweets as performs the couple a waltz under the shower of confetti. I can hear your bangles jingle from the terrace. You are on the road now.

May you be sated with the ratatouille, the blancmange, courgette until the last dregs of cognac kiss thy lips. The wedding will then near its end, just for the night.

Will you traipse the way back the Philippine Navy Avenue and I will draw a short straw.

Oh mother, envision it happening. May you kindly, please. Are you tired?

Oh, mother, has the fatigue overeaten your zeal, or do you still fancy my sight? May you know - I will tell you that you look beautiful. Tell me how else I can please for 'tis seldom that I do.

Oh mother, are you jaded to hear me for once more? Will I tell you that I have stitched two stygian rubies with muslin on my visage? Dad is not home yet. Forbear! Unacquainted am I of the time of his return; stranger have I always been to that hour.

When does he return? Do you know, anyhow?

But you are at the doorstep. Alas! Must I leave this ceiling now!

Must I not keep thee there. I may lose you in just a blink.

Art my eyes blurry with a liquid I did not know I could squeeze out of them. Alack! I cannot behold the way. But wait for two seconds more oh my creator! Just two moments and I will come.