थे लन्गुअगे ऑफ़ love

the language of love

Engaged by the resonances of the language of love. Relying on the tricks of your mind getting you home. You have bought into this marriage thing. For the two years you have been seeing the other. Your mind has spread out; away from you. Has no more plain symbols. Charts or helpful indexes. The last summer lumbered to its inevitable end. The way a song modulates from minor to major chords. Achieving dissonance, consonance, and harmony. Then dies in the listener’s ears. She like the previous summer has already left, without your noticing it. She has no more plans for you this winter. But you have continued to believe in your love for her. Even when her perfume has wafted into the thin blue air. And the magic has died down? Unless you know the quality of your soil: these seeds of your errors can creep upon the path of your feelings. Your small stories already wondering away. And the only story could be the one that lies ahead, of all these small stories of yours.