“You are a charmer,”
she said, curling up under my arm so that my hand rested on her head. She read an
abstract from my laptop before concluding this statement.
Before I could give
her a response, my mind stopped me to notice the beauty of how we were
surrendered with the darkness and how she soaked all the light genesis out of
my laptop screen. The light was evident of the intensity with which she was
looking at me for the response.
“Magician to be
precise,” I finally responded. With no clue why I said that, and what I was
supposed to say next. She made herself more comfortable in my hold. And, in
that particular marathon of second, I felt the glory of every new cell she
touched on my skin and sadness of every cell she untouched. I felt my skin fragmented
by the fragrance of her skin.
“I am a magician.
Have you seen them doing their tricks? Have you seen how magic works? How they
take all your attention to one irrelevant point and do something where your
attention isn't. Same goes with me. I will look deep into your eyes, as if I
will dig your soul out of them. I will neatly keep all your attention with my
eyes. Your eyes quaffing mine and then I will put my palm on your waist. You
will think that you got my trick. That I will do something with your waist. You
will pretend that all your attention is in my eyes but your mind will secretly
follow my moves on your waist. How limited I am with the way I touch you, soft
and tranquil. And, I will do nothing. I will just hold you for a while and then
move my hand away. You won’t have a clue that your heart isn’t there anymore. I
would steal your heart with stillness of my eyes and coldness of my touch. That's
how you will know that I am not a charmer but magician.”
She smiled.
“I don’t believe you.”
She folded my laptop and we were accompanied by complete darkness.
“You don’t believe
what?” I asked.
She held my hand and
placed it on her waist, “That your hand will land between my second base and
the third base and you will pull it away.” She pressed her lips against mine.
She was right. I
didn’t pull my hand away. (I won’t tell you where they went. Ummm… Abracadabra,
they disappeared.) The magician was amused itself the way he was tricked by his
own trick.
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