I was there under that tree, standing in front of her....commissioned for her assassination....those bright blue eyes, reflecting my tarnished conscience, and i fell in thy feet. My ears heard her voice, "THOU DOST WHAT THOU ASSIGNED FOR, THOU HAST MY APPROBATION MY LOVE. I AM ABSOLVING YOU FROM THE DELINQUENCY OF MY ANNIHILATION". I HAST BUT ONE REQUEST MY LOVE BEFORE THE DENOUEMENT OF MY MUNDANE LIFE. ENTRUST ME THIS DAY OF YOURS AS MY WEDDED HUSBAND, MAKE LOVE TO ME, IMPART ME THE AMBROSIAL FELICITY OF FEMININITY. ALL MY LIFE I REMAINED CHASTE, AND TODAY, MY LOVE, THOU BE'ST THE LEGATEE OF MY IMMACULACY".

I had no options left with me but to kill her. In that hiemal winter twilight, I stabbed her and a lenient "AAH" tried to break the taciturnity of the purlieus but soon perished with the lack of verdure. Her warm red aorta started dousing my stuporous palm and the white ice awning ground. I left the dagger as she drooped on the ground. I swayed her in my arms. My eyes met hers. I was sniveling but my tears were impalpable, gelid, dreaded to come out. She was simpering with tears, with harrow, with chastity. "MY LOVE AT LEAST KISS ME, KISS ME BEFORE MY SOUL VAMOOSES MY MORTAL BODY, KISS ME WITH ALL YOUR PASSION, WITH ALL YOUR LOVE, WITH ALL YOUR WRATH, WITH ALL YOUR SOLECISM." And she closed her eyes. I leaned forth, and our lips met. I kissed her, I kissed her as she requested, I kissed her like never before, I kissed her to death. She is dead, dead in my arms, in her lover's arm, in her killer's arm, in the sinner's arm. I ululated, as fervent as I could. Kismet made me devil.

I was ambling in calignosity.... abdicated, obliterated, enervated and denigrated. There I discerned lucent and that was achromatizing nimbly. I succumbed on the loam palpitating and debilitatingly descried my incandescence of utopia dissipate unabridged. I hast no sinew left in me.


I can still feel her sometimes....sometimes when I am woebegone, I auscultate her dulcify voice in my ears......sometimes when I have tears in my eyes I feel her lips kissing my tears away......sometimes when I am alone I feel her beside me cleaving my hand in her's. I want to bemoan. I want to obliterate her en masse, but, I am so timorous, I can't bear the anguish of disjunction from her memories.

Her eyes were full with tears of solitariness. Her kinesics evinced the vexation of a pulverized boxer who has no puissance and valor left to face the world. She in the midst of that bland and brumal night freed herself from her ritzy raiments and jumped out of the window from her apartment. Her eyes were closed. She paroled her mortal self from all the lavish ardors of this world. Silence met silence. Solitude met solitude. Her claret ravaged carrion was reposing on the road in eternal placidity. There was a sardonic and slacken smile on her spiritless face yelling at the bystanders, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? LEAVE ME ALONE YOU SONS OF BITCHES. WHERE WERE YOU, WHEN MY BIPEDAL PNEUMA WANTED A ROADIE TO ANNIHILATE MY SOLITARINESS? WHERE WERE YOU, WHEN I WAS FLOUNDERING FOR THE LOVE, THE TOUCH, THE VERACIOUS PERCEIVE OF ETERNAL AFFINITY? AND NOW WHEN I ARDOR SOLITARINESS, I ARDOR CONGENIALITY, ALL OF YOU ARE HERE GAWKING AT MY NAKED CORPSE TO ASSUAGE YOUR CANNIBALISTIC SATYRIASIS FOR A FEMALE BODY. GO AWAY. I DON'T NEED ANY OF YOUR PRURIENCE STRICKEN EYES ON MY CORPSE. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE."

But no one was hearing her imploring. How could they? The sonority of her immortal self was beyond the auditory adequacy of any mortal biped ear. She riveted at her spiritless body. How bucolic it looked. Gutsy, flaccid, exculpate!!! She felt a string of harrowing covetousness towards her dead self. She manumitted her sublunary existence; she provided her the congeniality it longed for. But now, here was her amaranthine self glutted with all her sublunary vexes, with all her aghast yearns, with all her living fears, with the brine of her macabre solitariness. It seemed to her as if all her living thwarts, her ambushes were left glutted to her anima. And they were agonizing her, agonizing her like never before. She was even more vulnerable in her new form. She couldn't divulge, couldn't caress, couldn't endure, couldn't argot and the worst of all she couldn't even yowl them off as she used to do all the time when she's alive. She could peg them, the throng, the world, everything, but they couldn't. What an adversity. Where would she go from here? To God, no, of course not, she would get disdained. WHERE? WHERE? WHERE? No one could tell her. She looked towards the empyrean, and, a mum, tear less, illimitable and unanswered ululate started to ferret its road to lacerate the abuttal of the mortal and the immortal world.