Chaos is beautiful

Posted: September 6, 2012 by aparth02 in Writes...
Tags: ,

She used to gobble his thoughts,
Straight from the dark porcelain vessels he boiled them in.

His thoughts,
They ended up leaving a bitter after taste in her mouth.
Yet, she couldn’t help gobbling them.
They grew on her,
Like two pints of beer, 60 ml each.
Like the tune of a flute playing somewhere in the background.
Like hushed noises in the middle of a sleepless night.
Like life.

She would caress his walls,
And discover crevices.
Lever holding ones.
One gentle nudge and the oak panelled wall would creak open.
Dust flew everywhere,
Engulfing everything she had left behind,
She would turn back and know that there was no turning back.

And so she would tiptoe,
Tip toe tip toe onomatoepically,
To discover,
That he thought,
Too much.
About burying corpses erect,
to disallow them a chance to rest in peace.
About broken relationships,
And how they can be told backwards.
About chaos,
And how beautiful it is

Parth Arora




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