They are some emotions, deep inside, hardly visited and often pondered. One of them has prompted me to write. All through our lives we grapple with unfulfillment and fly through the cracks into happiness. A sickness of a merry sort, a lovesickness.
I search through the annals of my mind. A desire warmed by passion.
****************
The waves caressed her bare feet
as she embraced the ocean.
Its depth and the completeness
it bought in her.
She could sense the tranquility,
she sought.
She could sense her thought
and in them, his.
That night at Bandstand.
Chai was sipped, cigarettes were smoked.
And hearts were dealt over
sewn dreams.
His reflection in her eyes,
down to her soul.
An interwoven story,
whose end was never written.
A sickness of a merry sort,
a lovesickness.
