My fourth love

(Featured image credits: Kanishka Rohilla)

I smelled the rose she gave me; it was the best smell in the world.

Until, I smelled her naked self intertwined with mine; brushing my palm all over her body, her head on my chest;
that deep sense of commotion but no regrets.

I stopped smoking three packs a day; stopped having 6 shots of vodka in morning, 10 ml of whiskey at night; everyday. Her addiction made me quit them all. She made me vulnerable again, vulnerable to those heartbreaks, sleepless nights and writing about love. It was as if my heart was dangling with a thin string; above an abyss, its billion pieces joined by the glue of her love;

Still I trusted her.

Whenever I touch her breast (where her heart rests); she touches my chest; our hearts synchronize and our bodies connect; time passes by as fast as a weekend. I look her in the eye; she returns the gaze with a hint of naughtiness on her face; instructing me to carry her till the end of time.

I kiss her lips, interlink my tongue with hers; they taste of cherry, my favorite fruit. She pulls me closer, tells me about her day; sleeps while I kiss her away. The first time I hugged her on her farewell day I felt a chill down my spine, my arms refused to let go; wet in sweat was my head, brain refused to function and heart said ‘congratulations, you fell in love again.’

I don’t just have sexual intimidation with her, her smile makes me voodoo;

She read my brain and her laugh is contagious; she is my fourth love, a long time friend.

As always this one is the best.

– Akshit Gupta

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