That time heals, is an untruth..

Composite blocks of elegant yet sad-looking masses of humanity, drift to and fro in front of the gates of the shamshabad international airport. The gut wrenching pain of separation complements the equally acute sense of impending loneliness. The two concoct a dance of misery and debilitating anguish with consummate skill.

The act of having left a part of myself back in a land that is so very far away plummets me into nadir depths from which there is no comeback.

The compass has shattered, the needle roving without direction. My pupils dilate, my face goes bright, my eyes start to water. I think of red-hot coals, dried, angularly bent willowy trees, sun blackened and rotting. sleep is rarer than gold, nodding-off is a luxury that is beyond reach. The inner chasm runs so deep that the relief of going for a few moments without thought, or thinking about anyone but that epitome in human beauty and ecstacy, is an effort so superhuman, that it destroys me.

Not all words are created equally, with a kiss of dark flavor, and a silky feel, the word desired by the mind will make you disdain the world to pay obeisance to it. Fizzle out, simmer, make haste for the world awaits you. The red carpet rolls out in anticipation. But the aircraft is empty, no one descends, the flash bulbs go off in vain, the wind rustles past an empty tarmac, my dramma tragicomico. Extending into the secunda praticca of my life, the directions go haywire, each contradicting the other, there will be no end, only a glimpse of what may have been...

The lights dim outside the window, the night takes hold, the candles flicker, burn, blackening the walls, slowly with indescribable stillness, the blackness merges into the turquoise of dawn, the candles die out, and the insomniac has waged another fruitless battle on the goliath that is the blessed oblivion of sleep...

"Arancione' vi dentro solaris"

musings through the night.......that time heals, is an untruth...