The first gush, it always seems. A mere look, an accidental brush, a friendly pat… and love is sparked off. A thousand vibes, scurrying into thousand directions. To the dungeons of desire and craving.
Love rests somewhere in between an unmindful chatter and mushy conversation. Between a half smile and blushing eyes. Between damp palms and tight gropes. Between repressed shrieks and outraged convulsions. Between the wet lips and heavy breaths. Between brewing anxiety and laidback humming. Between corroborated apprehensions and directionless wanderings. Between fastidious cuddling and voracious caressing. Between dovetailed breaths and hackneyed smothering. Between the ticklish knuckles that are kissed intermittently. Between the nourished spirit and all things esoteric. Between subversive frissons and conjectured monikers.
Love is found somewhere in between…it knows no permanency. It has no destination. It keeps shifting from one desire to another, hopping from one place of interest to another. Love is, after all, inexplicable.
