In that moment of first felt intimacy I tried to savour it in my mind by trying to reconnect it with the small instances of happiness I had pocketed in my childhood. Could the touch of his skin bind the broken fragments of my own self? And was it possible to pull my soul out of the pit of damnation it has crawled into? The commotion of heavy breathing and bodily friction could numb my senses but could that taste be my denial of happiness? My being was on fire but which breed of flame did it consume into my soul, my mind and my heart? Were they different entities or one and all or did they equated the rush with thrust and frustration with orgasm?

My soul rattles and jolts with the tears of want, a desire to connect, and reach out from the shadows of living it has fallen into. And these commotions of living, little deaths (orgasms), and momentary deaths (sleeps) had managed to churn a vicious never ending cycle of disgust, want, helplessness and destituteness which like a mirage promises of bliss and yet the talking people inside my soul barked the loudest.

This state of denial, acceptance and the guilt that coaxes to surpass all consoles the conscience and it all like the puff of a cigar relieves itself in the air and pollutes the heart.

Inspired by “Kings of Leon”- Sex on Fire

Author: Pompi Basumatary


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