she turned around, hands clamped together, a grain of tear tumbling down her left cheek as she pressed her eyelids close.
he watched her lithe back, fragile in her gentlest motion; he’d contemplate on the myriad of ways he could encase her with blankets of embrace. yet a slight hesitation resided, all he could muster was a soft gesture.
hands reaching into his coat pocket, a cigarette would find its way to the corner of his mouth; as he lit his cigarette, he’d turn his backside to her.
and he’d walk away, he’d walk on.
Everyone calls me by name.
It’s a pretty standard name, one syllable, not very original and frankly quite boring.
A good few-thousands of people have used it, much of it processed without any significance: of course that’s because I’ve heard it been called out so many times.
So why is it, that when you call my name, it sends jolts to every nook of my nerves, a particular one reaching to the cheek muscles, forcing it to stretch a smile unconditional?
How do you make a name so bland and generic, seem so meaningful all of a sudden?
I gotta hand it to you, you’re magical.
Its strange, incomprehensible….
Or I’m just madly in love.