Shadow of his heart

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She kissed him as he pulled her
closer by her waist
and I stood there trying hard
to believe my eyes.

Their lips were entangled
as they flowed like poetry in motion.
Soon their hands and bodies followed,
stripping each others’ dress and soul.

I pretended to close my eyes
once in a while and forced my distracted mind
to order my scattered thoughts into
carving the incidents as a fiction of imagination.

He paid close attention to her words
and yet was careful in not letting lose his shield.
I heard those conversations that made ms realize
how far away I was from being vulnerable.

He ran his hands across her body,
like a river flowing downhill.
She became dissolved in his movements,
as they filled each other’s incomplete portions.

His lips covered every inch of her face,
her breasts fit well inside the clasp of his palms
and their bodies came together,
as they stepped into the dimension of making love.

I could see a little more than lust in them,
but not a strong bond.
I was partly hurt watching them
and partly lost searching for depth in their story.

Those moments continued to linger inside my head
wondering if they’d ever unravel each other’s soul,
even though I was his other half
in the form of a shadow of his heart.

ImageCredits – Modern Ghana

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