Eyes opened up to confide, there was faith, there was belongingness. Sea shells were deposited unaccompanied on shores and shallow water receded so silently into its origin.
Moist of sticky sand covered hues of those bare bodies. Bare bodies that were stripped into their entangled yet unbounded fantasies. The shapes and images were obscure, yet bulkiness of the flesh was lucid and untamed. There was no separation it seemed. The budding civilization connected pulses gravitated in earthly soil.
The resonance of the heart beats could ring across their thudding bodies. Strokes of different layers amalgamated into feelings of pain and pleasure.
Time was lost, waves were subdued in oceans and they both wanted more of the unknown, uncertain and the unreal.
He whispered “If pleasure was unguided, my body is only a occupancy to brim spaces it requires”
She replied “I feel if my body is getting soaked in this pleasure, this fantasy. I have let loose my vanity, my possession to become part of it.
He said “We are creatures of the sand, made out of mud and it is only inevitable we must return to it so to acknowledge its magnificence”
The wind started to bustle rapidly as waves rose from their depth. Few droplets poured onto the bodies and they knew that nature had summoned them into this ritual.
They cried in salvation, in melancholy and in freedom. The nostalgia of the past had been surpassed and what they could feel together was real, beautiful and Divine.
The Goddess of Earth has risen and so was her confession to arms of nature
The sun was beating persistently on the crackled walls of old buildings and melting bodies rambled on the streets like shining armors. There were many shapes and textures, all which were unique and expressive. In being silent they had so much to say and converse with each other. The unrealized connections in shaking hands, touching shoulders or meshing hips in clutter seemed trivial yet very powerful in different ways. However conditionality for such expression was of physicality. This notion of physicality was ceremonial in bodily experience.
As the evening gathered heat of the day onto its arms, in room littered with scattered paintings was he. Puff of smoke exhaled out of his dry lips decorated with his unkempt facial hair The paintings were of lower abdomens of different forms. However inappropriately the upper body halves were camouflaged with obscure figures of medieval dragons. The room was spacious enough for her to play rusty tunes on un-tuned acoustic guitar. She had slender fingers colored with black nail polish. The guitar pick was fixed in her middle finger and there was continuation between G Major and E Minor Chords. It was a liminal space of uncertainty yet there was resonance between her earthly tunes and his obscure imageries.
It was erotic, it was smooth. The bare navel flirted with the burning candles and warmth of the aroma poured into her sweat. She crawled into his veins, and he laced onto her sweat. The symphony began to play and dance of the crawling spider emulated in different moves and turns. He began to submit and shrink .The brittle veil began to disappear and images weaved lucid colors. Colors that were now beyond mystification. No more were tunes rusty no more was She a dragon of the medieval times. She was real and so was her emerging aroma.
“Strip me of this comfort, abstain me from this threshold, as I have no threshold to honor” He said
She smiled in admiration “I could muse in centuries over this stillness, stillness which shakes clouds and feeds rain with the surreal. I could dance in this silence, silence which shatters mountains and melts moments in submission”
Bodies have a conditioning of their Own, they can both create and emulate what they create. Darkness has a light of its own, it spins our imagination and allows us to appropriate what we consider as insensible and unintelligible.