Wanderlust

My body aches. The inside wall of my mouth feels like a dry well. Heart is banging its head on the bars of its mortal prison. I must set it free. Let it breathe. Offer it food and water. Tend to its bruises. I wriggle in my sleep clutching the bed sheet. I rub my lips on the pillow. Thin streak of blood leaves a brackish taste in my mouth.

I know ‘it’ is up from its sleep. It is oozing desire. I lick my lips with trepidation. It wants me to take a lover again. It doesn’t care who it is. I might bump into him on the stairs of a faraway monastery. Or see his shadow in the eyes of a little girl who speaks a language unknown to me. Or a dog I will meet at a roadside cafĂ©. It will wag its tail and lick my face. And I will feel his presence in its unconditional affection. He will come and join me at the dead of night. And listen to the symphony of Mother Nature. We will raise our glasses to the serenity of solitude. To the exhilaration of exploring the unknown. To the sheer beauty of impermanence. And then we will make love in the gleaming moonlight. Our bodies will writhe in the agony of ecstatic desire as Mother Nature will make us one again.

He will kiss my mouth in the morning and tell me he is mine and that’s why he has to depart. His face keeps changing in the sea of people. And even though we will part our ways he will leave the inscription of his love etched to my soul. They will guide me to the next stop where I will find him waiting for me. And I will know even though I’m all alone I will never be lonely in life again.

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