You write so beautifully about pain,
Unfortunately you have so much of it to write.
You write so beautifully about love,
Unfortunately you have so little of it to write.
I did my best to balance
Giving you oceans of the one...
Unfortunately a few grains of the other sneaked in,
So difficult to sift the oceans of so many mixed colorful grains.
You balanced it your way,
Writing about both, looking for the solution to the riddle,
Knowing there is no solution to the riddle.
Knowing there is pain, and love, and us.
I have fire stones pouring from the sky in my shop, you said.
I have gems exploding in my eyes in my shop, you said.
I have joyful music sometimes sad in my shop, you said.
Do you have love in your shop? I asked.
You looked through your books, shelves...
You don’t know? I wondered.
I know, I am looking for it, I may have misplaced it.
Is it so little?
Much bigger than your ocean, young man.
So why is it so difficult to find?
Because I folded it till someone will ask for it.
Am I the first?
You are the first to mean it... oh, here it is... you apologized,
After shamelessly having opened your shirt
and pointing to your bare breast.
I was about to leave, blushing.
Wait, you said, you were looking for love, weren’t you?
Yes, I answered, my blush deepening.
You picked my hand and cupped it unceremoniously
over your left breast.
Something slid into my palm,
I pulled my hand back, alarmed.
Silly man, it is love, you laughed closing your shirt.
I looked at the small stain sticking to the inside of my palm,
of undefined color, and size, and shape...
What is it? I asked
Love, in its raw state, unkempt, unbridled, untamed.
Are you a love whisperer?
A love whisperer? I thought there are only horse whisperers.
Are you a love whisperer? you repeated.
I did not answer.
Are you the love whisperer? you repeated.
I knew it was the third time and last.
I neared the open palm to my face, eyeing the stain closely.
It seemed to change color and size and shape slowly, continuously.
I neared my lips to it and I whispered
jerking my head back as it unfolded once along its middle
doubling in size.
I whispered again, it unfolded again.
Is there an end? I asked, after doing it for a third time.
I don’t know, no one whispered to it before, you answered.
I stopped asking
whispering again, and again, and again...
The stain grew into a field, then it turned into a forest,
then turned the size of the world
painful twitches masking from time to time your sun
and clawing at my heart...
...sorry, wrong whisper...
...that’s alright, you are learning...
It was getting late,
Night eyes started blinking all around us.
Are you sure you want me to go on? I dared ask.
So can I.
Long past time for shops to close.
I tried to pay, you refused,
This is your shop, I insisted.
This is our home, you answered, adding
This is our love,
I guess that one day we will fill the universe.
I wonder, does the universe have an end?
I did not wait for an answer, there was none and one, only.
I just kept on whispering.