Zeitgeist's Dust

The playground was deserted, hidden in the wilderness, forgotten by time. I wondered when was the last time an unscarred soul was lost here, unmindful of the foreboding darkness. I looked around, spying the phantoms of playmates from the past. The rusted swings still had a hint of blue. The ground below was depressed. I held the cold chain and recalled the restrained dreams. I stared at the setting sun, feet dangling, my mind resisting the melancholy. I wanted to fly again, reclaim my innocence, forget the lessons and be alive. I struggled to reach higher. Each thrust brought me closer to the sky, as I searched for the feeling of exhilaration that has eluded me for long. A stir in the stillness. A smile without a reason. Alone in the darkness, I finally had an answer. When do Swingers become Jumpers?

I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.              .I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not.I love you.I love you not...

Still miss you... still want to connect the moles on your skin, run my fingers through your hair, hold you while you sleep, leave a mark on your neck, bite you, steal a kiss, come with you, wake you, wait for you, keep you waiting, flirt with you, tease you, surprise you, puzzle you, correct you, listen to you, guide you, egg you, scold you, share with you, comfort you, build you, be with you, love you. Wish you were like before… without the lies, the pretensions, the commitments, the labels, the endless waiting, the unconsummated love, the vanity, the selfishness, the escaping, the giving, the waking up, the shouting, the silence, the wavering, the hanging on, the leaving, the calculating, the measuring, the balancing, the arguing, the explaining, the clarifying, the correcting, the breaking, the excuses, the tiring, the trying, the distance, the missing, the denying, the suspecting, the introducing, the hurting, the fucking lying, the hate. Just like before.

It's spring. Three seasons have passed since we met and the chill of our winter no longer gives me the goose bumps. I find your name in my phone book and hit delete. I pick up your red shirt, all wrinkled up, and add it to the ones that would shelter the homeless. Collect the shriveled flowers from the blue vase and bury them in the compost heap. I look for the book with the note you left. Would leave it at the park bench. Maybe, the one in the red shirt would find it. Pictures are easier to get rid of. I have one final look before I hit the keys. Must remember to delete the backups. A search in my inbox finds your words. They are deleted forever. Pick up your gray toothbrush and trash it. Finally, you're out of my life. But I still can’t get you out of my mind.

I went down to the street that began it all, the aptly named, Road Number One. Got off at the sandwich bar and headed to the video store next to it. Staring at the titles in languages I couldn’t speak, I awaited the visitor who would never arrive to share a subtle kiss that no one could see. The cashier smiled at me reading my thoughts as I read hers. I headed to the coffee shop where I sat alone facing the exit. I hate coffee or maybe the milk in it. I wander about feigning a lack of destination, seeking you in the places that we were found. Hoping to see you again so we can walk through each other. Yes. You are gone.

“Let’s Run!” You said. And we ran, measuring the distance with each step. My long strides squeezing the life out of the sand as I ran ahead elated. I could hear my breath as I escaped an unnatural silence. I looked behind at you and hit a wall. Blood oozed out of my forehead and colored my hazy eyes as they focused on your departing silhouette. My heart kept pounding. I heard your footsteps fade away. I lost you somewhere on the way. I smiled, still reeling at the sharp taste of blood and sweat. Bring it on.

I leaned on the granite rock under the checkered shadow of the neem tree. The smell of lantana was strong and the book in my hand, unending. I was distracted by a fluttering noise, of paper against the wind. I looked up and saw a yellow kite, with big pink eyes, staring down at me. It was tangled in the mistletoe and struggled to break free with every little wind. A tailorbird looked at it with its head tilted. Chirping loudly, mocking it as it sought the sticky berries. Ignorant of how high the kite flew, or how it yearns to be among the hawks. It will struggle to break free, to fly again and to fight the wind. The sun will fade its vibrant colors. The twigs will shred it. And one day, it will untangle and fall to the ground. The termites will build its sepulcher. To dust will turn its dreams. Never will it fly again. No one will remember it. Next season, there will be another kite, yellow, with big pink eyes.

I started early. Another aimless wandering of a clueless soul. There was the sandwich bar that had the day's special. Back at the crowd, I read over a cup of green tea with a twist of lemon - "'I love walking in London,' said Mrs. Dalloway. 'Really it's better than walking in the country.'" The store next door had a sale. The street was up on sale and I was rich today. Today, I could indulge. The Chrysanthemums at the florist enthralled me like Vincent was by Sun flowers. Bought a bunch - green and white. Bought a green sweatshirt for the winter that passed by and a bunch of glitzy Tees for the years when I couldn't afford them. Bought a pair of beach sandals and a sipper. I could smell the aroma of saffron in the air. It was time to indulge - again. Stopped at the bus stop and watched the traffic go by. Flagged a cab and headed home. I unlocked the door and nudged it wide open. There was something still missing.