BluE Scrubs

I don’t know why, I couldn’t begin to comprehend. I asked why far too many times, that is the times when I was hit by the waft of near erupting curiosity, too soaked my brain with soup of question marks.

Somewhere out there in the constellation, your birth was banal, I didn’t even pay much attention, but slowly it took up space, expanded and bloomed and blossomed. Once in a while sucking in and involuting, I noticed that too, as if you were too shy to come out of the cocoon.

Too protective of yourself, don’t want to get hurt maybe. I wouldn’t know for I could never ask, how could I, you don’t even notice me. Of course you wouldn’t. Oh stop. Really you wouldn’t have. Nah, I tell you, not. Of course you don’t.

Why would you. Who am I? Just another something in the background, wallpaper vertically, lumpy patches of dilapidated grass horizontally, lampposts once in a while, white noise most the time. I serve no purpose to you.

From my world, I see you as a social butterfly, you flap, you bat and secretions drench the air. Humid with saturations from many forbidden valleys, it diffuses to my crib, and I was swallowed by disgust. Somehow, disgusted it maybe, I still trust you.

Solely because, those words you string, they echoed mine. I don't own them, nobody does, but why those words, why in those manner, why all at the same time? It's like you've materialised from just clouds and cumulus of supernova. It's like you've caught a glimpse of my humble being and mirrored me, in your most cryptic way. Insanely flattering.

I still trust you, that, the cunnilingerous words are meant for me. This air that I breath, we will share, this hollowness you will fill, pouring and douching till you ache, till you sweat, till you surrender, till it’s pure, white like a secluded beach no one has ever been to. Breathing every inch of each other’s skin, rubbing sands on navels, soft and hard and watching them all come alive.

I am by nature far from being a cynosure, you are though, and it makes me crave for you. We’ll be cyclotrons for we are the opposite. You will see.

Not having you is like eating a burger without cheese, strawberries without cream. I tremble at the glance of a little something you left for me, every time we part. Come here let me run my hands through your hair. Eyes closed, your hair, can it be the morning breeze to greet me?

Are we cymbals? Are we going to make sounds? Will it be loud? Will it be many, again and again? As many minims, as that of semiquavers, without a coda? Will it be gentle will it be hard? Will it make music? Will you come back for me?

p/s: urghh I am home already? Demm.