Light Field

Once separated by rabid arguments, they were now separated by a force beyond their control. One tried to kiss the other and the burning was so intense they barely had any chance for their lips to touch, when a hand glided across, a rising pain elevated from their insides to their throats to their mouths.

“Now we will never fight again,” she said and her lover agreed. She did not feel like crying but she did feel like a fool for wasting years on her life, for not having any foresight. The world is full of wonders and, sooner or later, one was going to be wonderful enough to destroy the last glimpse of normality. “I am indebted to you in warmth and in death. That will be all.”

“You have the necessary ingredients in your body and your mind to be a great person and to make somebody very happy,” her lover said and when she said, she wanted to feel her just one more time but she knew it was pointless. A pointlessness that did not begin with the divine intervention of their barrier, but the first they crossed eyes and exchanged words and laughed at and with each other. “Mix them well and all will be well.”

Despite our attempt at separation, what ended up transpiring is they both tried to forge our paths, slowly curling away from each other, only to come back to the same spot. Her lover always greeted her smiling sadly and she greeted her with a grimace to hide her happiness. Nothing was ever consistent between the two of them, it had never been, but it was such tragic, disgusting, awful joke that now these differences had come to life and make them physically incapable of togetherness.

Just a kiss, she wanted, not to love but to remember, to remember and savor the last moment.

“Why did this happen to me?” her lover asked in one of their many bumps into each other. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Why do you think it was only you? This is for the two of us, the two us are cursed, we both did something terrible,” she said.

“You will never do something terrible. I know you well or, at least, intermittently.”

Despite the fact that it made no sense to her, she accepted her reasoning and nodded. She also wanted to say that she was in no way responsible for anything, that she was pure and honest and deserving of life. But she had left already and by the next time they had met, the conversation had moved on to other more mundane things.

“Whenever we try to kiss or touch, I feel like there is something blinding me,” her lover said.

“I felt it too,” she said. “Even if we are to pulled through and withstand the flames and the pain, I can’t even tell it is you who I am kissing.”

They tried it again. They both put their hands together as the bile rose, as the thunder reigned in their minds, and the bones shattered and splintered around their teeth, and the face that they kissed only was a glimpse, a glow pictured in the eternal darkness of a shadow, not even a human with a face, an eye that could be looked upon with love. They pulled apart, crying and barely able to breathe.

“I… you…” her lover said.

“I… you too…” she said, a fragment of what she said, a lovely word, a trust that only the tip of a finger caressed.