I see and listen to them as I pen this down. The interchange begins on a note that others might consider a gusto resulting from the coming together of a thousand violins. I consider it distress and grief. Remember the one that emerges with a moment from the bygone days hitting you really hard. Something that happens when the fragrance from that woman attending the wedding pushes me back to the days of my infancy. I know it was these violins. The pair did not allow me any sleep for three nights. It never left my eyes dry and my throat clear. They are not woods where they meet. They are the grey and white cells which fall prey to the demon others name nostalgia. Words can only be spoken and heard. The interchange that occurs is beyond my understanding. All I faintly recall is one calling the other his queen. The other calling him her king. What is called an embrace comes flashing to mind. The setup stands for surrender. The smiles they exchange could make someone weep, they do not know. The lakes, yachts and the boats…These oceans…they cannot consume them all alone. Aren’t they mine as well? Someone ask them please! Please! I know they do so to tease and pinch me where it hurts the most. Both talk about flowers and I go acidic all over. Someone should ask them to be considerate and polite with the pitiful beings who might be thinking of them.
The slight fog and the skies have all seen them. I too have seen them. Unfair judges the skies are. Bountiful for them and misers for someone else. What all must one have done to deserve injustice?
O men and women! let them know once they get out of ecstasy. Let them realise the worth of a night’s sleep for someone who really needs it and let them be accountable for the lunacy they are capable of inducing in weaklings!