“You’re scaring me now”, she said. “Be scared, then”, I thought.

It gave me a certain convulsion to force her graceful nails into my little wound. That feeling still remains inexplicable.

She doesn’t know it, but I find myself tracing the contours of her beautiful nails each time I gaze at her hands. The urge to kiss her hands arises every time I look. A vicious cycle.

I’m amazed by her slender, almost sculpted hands. Every now and then, specially when we’re out in the sun, I am fortunate enough to observe her green, alluring veins meandering effortlessly through her wrists. I discreetly trace her veins when she’s not paying attention.

I try my hardest but it’s difficult to not get lost in that green. I think that’s the right green. The color of her veins.

Those are the hands I wish to die upon. How serene would that death be. The gods will look at me with respectful envy if I get to draw my last breath in her arms.

But my devotion comes at a price too. If I’m willing to die by your side, I’ll make sure I make it hard for her to love me sometimes. She’ll feel she’s truly incapable of loving. She’ll feel I’m unlovable. She will feel it’s scary, difficult and suffocating to love. I’ll be watching. I’ll be attentive. If she pulls through, I’ll give my life for her.

If she prefers cowardice, I can only imagine how excruciating my absence will be.
I’ll meet her in her dreams, like finding dried flowers in old books. She’ll scour through the wastelands to seek my presence.

I hope she pulls through, so that I can have her petal hands all by myself.

She will have to intentionally, even forcefully, scrape every little piece of me out of her heart, because even if a little is left, she would find herself there, between death and madness.

Even if she attempts to pluck everything out with the weapon of time, one day she’ll sit alone, and a glimmer deep within her soul will shine. As if illuminated, she’ll be in disbelief, thinking she removed everything, while there, sitting in the corner of her heart, filled with my love for her, it will gracefully smile at her existence—a pearl.