From Dawn Till Dusk

by raimperial

You are lying in bed, and the crisp smell of morning begins to fill the air. Burying myself under the sheets, I find you there steadfastly asleep, looking tired from the night we had spent together, with a soft pillow tucked in nicely between your arms. As I trace the length of your arms with my hands, and brush my lips against the soft knuckles on your hands and gently kiss your fingertips one by one, I begin to wonder to myself. Am I – perhaps symbolically – the pillow that your arms embrace, that you hold so close to your body while you sleep? Do you, by any chance, constantly think of me – of us even – even in the deepest purviews and farthest peripheries of your dreams? Can I, if possible, get to be a part of your day today? Will you, if you don’t mind, let me prepare breakfast for you, at the very least?

I look at you and the questions in my head just keep spinning around, restless and relentless, looking and asking for answers.

**

You are taking a shower, and I could see your entirety through the glass partition. I sit on the toilet seat and light up a cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke and letting it fill the air as I watch you lather yourself with soap. We look at each other, and we both smile. You ask me to come over and help scrub your back, and due to some weird predilection for the scent of papaya I take off my clothes and join you. I gently scrub your back, your arms, your thighs, and before I realise it, I am already fervently kissing your lips, tasting you tongue, holding your body close to mine, both of us pretending like we’re back somewhere in the past, back to zero, starting from scratch, kissing and falling in love all over again under a cold evening rain.

**

It is afternoon and you are sitting on the couch; channel surfing like it’s nobody’s business. You like to do that, because you don’t particularly like watching TV anyway. You just like sitting on the couch, eating cookies and drowning then down your throat with a glass of fresh and pulpy orange juice. And for some weird reason that cannot be logically explained,  I’m really glad I bought that furniture.

**

You are there standing by the open window as though you deliberately esconced yourself right at the edge of a tall cliff or at the far edge of the universe (about the validity of its existence, that I will never know), while the colours of the setting sun unconscientiously paint themselves all over your skin. You take off the ruby-studded butterfly clip from your neatly parted hair and the wind brushes them away as they fall down, like how tall grasses in an open field sway to the afternoon breeze, or how tree branches undulate and leaves rustle in unison when zephyrs pass through. Watching your eyes pierce through the infiniteness of the sky, drowned in your white translucent dress, glowing with a radiance that’s slowly drifting away with time, I walk towards you and hold you tight in my arms, for I fear that when darkness finally takes over and that great ball of fire on the horizon finally disappears, you would too.

e horizon finally disappears, you would too.