Still, you would think of everything as a blunder, as a one-
night romp in the outdoors where once, we thought the chaste
as a lifeless lot in the synthetic caste of those alive, where
once, you fell asleep and dreamt in novels about emancipation
even though I’d still rather see you restraint, same way you
would rather see my hair tangled than silky for you were in love
with disarray, which was why I wanted you: the exceeding
atmosphere of all that moved around you in convulsed rhetoric
blindness like a brilliant depiction of Death in furs and chains
which I allowed to toy with the vascular—setting the quandary
ablaze as though you were coal inside a furnace. But you tried
to dissuade me, didn’t you? I should have known. You would
speak, unintentional then retract because perhaps you thought
that Time, when disturbed, could not be venerated. It’s true. I
know this from experience. There are things which you do not
know about me. And things which I would never understand
about you. We veer away towards reality, torpedo-like from the
abstract, even though that doesn’t matter anymore, for I am lost
to you, much like all the women who scalded the ballpoint before
you came to be. And you would forget me. Maybe remember the
name, the face, the way I had stroked your thigh with utmost sincerity,
but you would forget me. Very trivial. It is time and it is the universe.
This is fate when it comes to an end, God very coy and blunt about
not wanting civilization to decipher things which are beyond its
understanding, like how I never should have loved you. That was always
the celestial mantra of boys who were too fucked up on pre-conceived
notions to ever get disillusioned by romance. A hymn of everyone
who read porno under their blankets at night when they had no
girlfriends to enthuse them to stop the flesh indulgence. Tattooed on the
mind of the realist, they set off to die normally. But I was never
one of them. I would burn out eventually and grow dull and you
would forget me even more. I would dissipate into the forgettable
where people have no history and where you do not tangibly exist.
And out there, they will find me and we shall turn into savages.

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