A fleeting bliss...

What do we get when what we have in our midst is nothing but the raw passion of the hour? We break each others souls in such intensity that the clock on your wall seems to have stopped. Such a slow but hurried passion that we get...that we share...and yes, we devour. Nothing but the most sinful of the deed which defies the norms of passion. Our eyes speak nothing as they struck each others gaze. I get what I want and you get what you want. Behind that are our two souls ripped apart by want but brought together by need.

And, after this, when we are torn and we are lifeless. Nothing but numbness starts to engulf what was left. That numbness that will linger until the clock will strike back again chiming for another earthly passion. We will keep everything in our heart where the blood streaming in its veins will be the only living cell to relish the macabre of our deed.

By the time I stepped out of your door, I have nothing but my sanity licking the wounds of my soul. We torn each other apart and until then, we will always be empty. Until then, we will still bear that hole in the pit of our stomach, agonizingly remembering every time the clock stopped ticking. Our bodies were in heaven but not our soul.