Xavier

I'm not much of a party animal, yet, something last night made me alot more sporting than I usually am. Waiting anxiously for the party to commence, I scanned everyone who walked through the front door. Half an hour passed by and the room filled up with strangers who'd come just for free drinks and small talk. I went out onto the verandah and gazed up at the stars, sighing for no apparent reason and feeling disappointed about something I couldn't understand. Forcing myself back to reality from daydreams that get me nowhere, I sat down to read my horoscope and make sense of the commotion in my mind. Then He arrived. Seeing him enter, an involuntary smile lit my entire face the way it does when I encounter someone special and I dropped everything in my grasp. He sees pleasure written in my features and teases me a little, hoping to provoke an explanation for that unexpected response. At that instant, my mind travels back a few weeks in time as I see him recreate magic on a stage to elicit louder applause from a satisfied audience. Time, being like a huge void which sucks out everything in existence, save for for the two of us facing each other...him on the grand podium enacting the role of someone so unlike himself... and me utterly enchanted by his every theatrical movement. I could recall how that handshake had felt during our brief introduction...how our fingers had made contact like pebbles rubbing together to create a friction that could light up the whole sky, in flames which could never be extinguished. He may just be another stranger...or more?

Unrequited Love

I sit basking in the warmth of day

When I accidentally look your way.

Then I see your face turn crimson red,

And I can rightly discern from the look

What could have stimulated such a response.

But I shall never reciprocate that emotion

Atleast not where you’re concerned.

You make such a show in class

About your talent and your unique style.

But let me tell you something,

You’re as special as that pebble on the street

That gets stepped on by ever pedestrian

Who happens to pass by.

Female attention is a great way

To pamper an ego which need none.

But you keep the flattery going

Thinking you’re the man they’ll remember

Next morning

Little do you know that they’ve

Forgotten you even exited

Before they retire to bed at night.

It’s pitiful seeing you preen

And clear your throat to say something

You’re sure will make my head spin

And cause a commotion of butterflies

In my stomach.

But my heart beats only from Him.

Sadly, ‘Him’ isn’t you.