a short late night story

SHARDS OF  IMAGINATIONS

〈FICTIONAL TRUTH〉

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 She couldn’t sleep. It started out as a warm,dark cloud hovering over her nether regions, thundering and sending waves of gentle quivers through her that were neither intruding nor forceful but enough to soothe her. As sleep weighed heavy on her eyes, this cloud moved up into her chest and became a solid mass of sentiments. At first it gave away a faint buzz which she ignored as she prepared for bed. It became obstinate and grew louder, like a murmur. It garnered strength,words,reasons. It knocked there beneath her breasts that had recently been freed from restrains to freely roam at night, eagerly signalling for her to hear it out. When the knocking turned to trouncing, that’s when she forced herself up, half asleep and knackered.
You see, when she writes, she doesn’t think first and write second. She doesn’t write at will. She’s merely a medium through which her emotions manifest themselves when they wish to do so. So she sits at her laptop, closes her eyes to see, to hear the words in her mind that want out. Then she leaks, she bleeds, she emits the words onto the keyboard. It’s like she’s playing a melody on a piano, one she learnt by heart in her childhood and now plays without paying mind to the sheet. Her fingers know what she doesn’t ; as they dance and pause and waltz across they keyboard, she doesn’t have a direct connection to what’s being communicated until the buzzing,the knocking,the trouncing ceases.
So, what was it she wanted to say?Ah yeah. That.
What the moon, the stars have witnessed for eons
that’s what she wanted to let you witness in her
The murmurs contained in the bark of ancient trees and the dirt of the earth
that’s what she wanted to whisper into your ears
the warmth of the sun that’s been unwavering in its presence
that’s what her chest contains for you
this spring of emotions are stirred by tornadoes,typhoons,monsoon rain
hardened by snow blitz,softened by heat waves
matured by…her love for thee

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