We are out of it already.
We are no longer in love.
We love that is certain.
And that is good enough.
If they touch us, they will know a fire here was once lit.
We are just heat, you and I.
Love is such a fleeting emotion anyway.
I think I am in love with you.
And already I have lost the feeling.
Now I am merely thinking, drifting in its aftermath.
Rising in the air because somewhere there was a fire.
I want to extinguish myself.
Because I am consumed by my love for you.
I want to be alone in love.
When I am completely in love with you.
I want to be a match struck in the rain.
Drenched, spent, pointless.
No person can always be in love with another.
Don’t woo me everyday.
And I shan’t hanker for you either, everyday.
Let us fill our lives with annoyance, irritation, disgust, disillusionment, apathy.
This way, we shall burn all the brighter when we meet.
And our combined heat shall set the universe aflame.