The wick has burnt out. The wax has thickly coated the candle stand. Murkiness has engulfed every corner of the room. It reminds me of my dead past. To the time when no ray of hope penetrated my doleful oculis. I needed you then. I need you still. And yes I know you were always there. You still are. I absolutely marvel at how your affable self mingled with my woebegone being and how we weaved our own labyrinth of love.
This darkness doesn’t scare me anymore. I want you to stay here tonight even when the purple blue changes it’s hue. I want you to read me poems of enigma and sing me to sleep. I want to watch you all night long : read your sanguine yet melancholic blue eyes, taste cigars from your burnt lips, map the young wrinkles on your face as you confide your deepest fears in me.
What spell have you put on me?
It’s driving me crazy.
Oh honey! Stay here, will you? While I make love to you?