That evening,
The irises of a lady’s eyes
Aroused the vastness of an ocean
& her pupils glistened
Like pearls beneath shallow,
Languid waters of crystalline blue;
Their lustrous nacre
Reflected the sparse rays
Of dwindling evening light
& swooned over the elegant
Procession of the stars above.

That evening,
The fractious mysteries
Of the universe withdrew
Their reticence & conferred
Their wisdom upon her;
Deep and troubling questions
Which once had lingered in
Her thoughts were burnt to cinders
By kisses from the flame of truth;
Memories found their meaning,
& rhymes found their reason.

That evening,*
Her once perpetual,
Merry exhalations
Mingled with the ocean air for
The final time as she
Became one with the night.
As she ascended into
The great unknown, she saw
Memories flash before her eyes.
For life is but a flash
Within the spectrum of eternity.

That evening,
She discovered so much
But paid the price of what she knew.

That evening,
She became nothing more
Than stardust.

*“For you were made of dust, & to dust you shall return.”

It's common knowledge that after getting a phone number,
one must wait three whole days before giving a call,
to make sure the interaction remains calculatedly casual,
as opposed to needy or uninterested,
which is complete cupid ****!
It's appalling that one's intense desire to contact an individual one is drawn to,
is not seen as a mere gesture of sentiment or affection,
but rather weakness and vulnerability.
Even in the darkest and drunkest hours
there will be no super likes,
for no one can afford to wear the heart on their sleeves,
in this world of left and right swipes.
The chase is so overrated not only does it never end,
but also overlooks the catch even when it's finally caught.
True feelings disguised by emojis concentrated into 140 characters
ridicule the ideology of love and romance,
when really we're nostalgic of the times,
we once murmured into brick sized cordless phones at wee hours in the morning,
"you hang up... nooo you hang up first..."
When did meeting the parents not become meeting the parents,
but rather the quick show of another chick to flaunt how well life is going at the moment?
When did compartmentalizing life mean pursuing romantic relationships over the weekends only?
When did to love, to want, to need, to show affection become such girly things,
those who are engulfed by romantic comedies and sensitivity did?
All I really want is to call you and tell you how much I miss you,
and just listen to you breath even if you don't have anything to say.
But, I guess I'll just wait for you to whatsapp me sometime during the weekend...