Hermes.

The fragrance of your Hermès with a minor hint of your bodily scent resides somewhere within my breathing and my coronary artery-the same place that bleeds and clots incessantly when all of me is concealed under the visage of being intact, but also severely crushed.

I always reminisce you— those small hands still interlaced tightly with mines…the delicate veins of those tiny wrists caressing me, your soft breath on my neck, calming and lulling my fiery temper; characteristic of only me, understanding and soothing that fire in me that burns wildly whilst I pretend that the cruel stillness of these years detached from each other never actually happened. Then, there are times where the mere thought of you dwells in another Universe completely—a paradise where the full Moon shines proudly and narcissistically with no compulsion of ever waning, where the sound of your mellifluous sweet nothings are yearnfully anticipated and welcomed, not just painfully endured.

Occasionally, there are those days I yell at you via my mind’s voice, shooting off those same questions a million times: “LOOK AT ME, what have YOU done??!!! You broke me to pieces!” But I still see only you, reflected in every mortal fibre of my being—those longing honey- coloured irises burning eternities into my soul; me lovingly admiring and tracing the thin line of unshaven bits on your face with my fingertips.

I lament to the heavens above and weep in vain. I whisper to you beneath the dark sky: “Don’t, leave, but if you must, take my soul with you. Don’t go just yet, the essence of my being is still not satiated.” But you need to vanish beneath the radar into another era of ceaseless years because other hearts will shatter if you helplessly follow yours.

I always vocalize to you soundlessly, using the language of my heartbeat—the pulse that fully comprehends immortality and utter quietly: “Don’t walk away, not just yet. Never! You are just a part of me I cannot let go. You are the light of my eyes.” You live in the shadows of the Moonbeams, vanquishing into the clutches of a dawning day, you are another new infinity where I am a mere speck of dust on the  ground that your perfect feet tread upon… and maybe before you step, you could glance downwards at me shyly…I know I would die for that cursed blessing.

You are a piece of me in every way, living freely in every room of my understanding and reasoning. Your after-shave haunting me as it lingers upon every trace of air that I inhale, cajoling echoes of your existence, further infusing you in all of me, like the senses that give perception to the world around me.

I say again: “Please don’t go, not like this.”

Now I tell God: “Please just make him stay, just a little longer”

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