Cheating.
Furtive, stolen kisses inside a cab. Our fingers lightly brushing, touching, while walking inside the mall. A quick, sideways glance meant to be seen or caught. Feigned detachment which our racing hearts betray. We walk with caution, our eyes always scanning the faces around us. We speak guardedly, else we say words we do not mean. Not yet. Unspoken thoughts, questions hover in the air above us like stunned butterflies.
Our days together are like these. Fragmented, unreal. We both know that reality is only a blink away. A text message from yours , a call from mine . Always, they glide behind us like watchful ghosts. And our smiles for each other sometimes do not come as easily. Guilt burns like a black fire inside us. We see it mirrored in each other's eyes.
Yet, there is no denying the fierce, almost desperate way we hold each other's hands. The urgency in our kisses, as if the answer to everything can be crammed into that one, decisive action. For what can be more intimate than a kiss between lovers who act like friends, or friends who act like lovers? In that one act, the world melts away. There is no doubt, no questions, no reality. Everything is as should be, and the ghosts that both haunt us fade into nonexistence. For a few, precious seconds, we both know.
Cheating is all this is. But I never thought it would be as painful. As difficult. Who would have thought that after all this time, everything has remained the same between us? That I would still long to hold you with the same intensity as I once did? That you would still kiss me almost as if you were afraid to break me?
Today, mine returns. On a boat, this very minute, he thinks and believes that I am his. I imagine his eyes shining with anticipation. He says that he has missed me. My heart clenches. He doesn't know that I am divided, quartered into pieces. Some pieces belong to him. Others, I have quietly given to you.
Today, I know you are sleeping. In your bed, this very minute, you are dreaming. I imagine it is me you are dreaming of. In your dream, you love me more than you love him. I know that you, too, are divided, quartered into pieces. What belongs to me, I will quietly accept. What belongs to him, I will, as quietly, want.
Our days together are like these. Fragmented, unreal. We both know that reality is only a blink away. A text message from yours , a call from mine . Always, they glide behind us like watchful ghosts. And our smiles for each other sometimes do not come as easily. Guilt burns like a black fire inside us. We see it mirrored in each other's eyes.
Yet, there is no denying the fierce, almost desperate way we hold each other's hands. The urgency in our kisses, as if the answer to everything can be crammed into that one, decisive action. For what can be more intimate than a kiss between lovers who act like friends, or friends who act like lovers? In that one act, the world melts away. There is no doubt, no questions, no reality. Everything is as should be, and the ghosts that both haunt us fade into nonexistence. For a few, precious seconds, we both know.
Cheating is all this is. But I never thought it would be as painful. As difficult. Who would have thought that after all this time, everything has remained the same between us? That I would still long to hold you with the same intensity as I once did? That you would still kiss me almost as if you were afraid to break me?
Today, mine returns. On a boat, this very minute, he thinks and believes that I am his. I imagine his eyes shining with anticipation. He says that he has missed me. My heart clenches. He doesn't know that I am divided, quartered into pieces. Some pieces belong to him. Others, I have quietly given to you.
Today, I know you are sleeping. In your bed, this very minute, you are dreaming. I imagine it is me you are dreaming of. In your dream, you love me more than you love him. I know that you, too, are divided, quartered into pieces. What belongs to me, I will quietly accept. What belongs to him, I will, as quietly, want.