#ipsita

Random Rita ~ Friday Feature Fics!

Life is just vast and it feels so short, even if its the longest thing u do

i. The last thing you knew before finding yourself in an envelope of warm arms, was the blaring cacophony, clutching you in a powerfully deafening manacle, so much, that you forgot that there exists an antidote, to the latent venom spewed by such dissonance. ii. The encasement of those arms, the unusual sweetness of the brush of a strange breath across your skin, is a pleasant, yet, unseemly reminiscence of the intensity of your clamour for a distraction. A divertissement that offers to steal the resounding dissonance that you feel through an osmosis, so much, that now, you characterize that to be an inseparable part of your own existence. iii. His breath laves you, initiating a slow, yet, astoundingly strong rumble within a furtive corner of your being. The rumble, much to your delight, starts to dampen the racket within you, while immunizing you to the din that both of you tend to associate your environs with. The cacophony, which kept causing your ears to bleed with a flow almost as profuse as that of the blood that pumped within you, now magically metamorphoses into an ethereal melody. iv. You feel yourself being liberated from the varied entrapments of fabrics you hold your corporeal existence in. You feel an unusually soft pressure of lips on those very parts that he bares of its bondages. You hear the music within you ascend, gradually, while your breath, craves, for more of such coveted bareness, bareness which till tonight, found its expression for you in clandestine musings. Bareness, which makes you forget every other consideration, than the person who brings it to you, in a manner of reconciliation, while venting a tempestuously torrid passion, that till now, housed itself in you. v. He has relieved you of the maximum shreds of decency that you cling to, while you are ravenous for untainted liberty. Finally, you feel a fondle on a slight strip of lace that embeds a tiny shred of metal, that holds the last ounce of coverage for your body. The raging melody within you escalates, and you hunger for the escalation to become astronomical to an extent, that would let you, unbridle that furiously arduous exhilaration, that frees you of all frustrated restraints. In a manner of obedience to your tumultuously billowing instinct, you feel that thin strip of elastic loosen, as, the metal shred disengages itself from its lace tether, by way of the bidding of his fingers.  vi. Now, bondages, entrapments, shackles and everything that can be used as a container for the spirit that is meant to be free, can contain you no longer. You are now, a wind, no, a magnanimously blustering tornado, having a frequency of your own, that cares to move in harmony, of the one who catalyses the whirlwind. The notes within you have begun to hit excessively high octanes, making the crimson pulsating torrentially within you, sing with an ardour unfathomable for a human voice to attain, even at the pinnacle of its skill, for such blazing mellifluousness, is only viable for celestials in their moments of fiery passion. vii. The raucousness is now over. The lyrics of the fiery melody find their expressions impressioned on your intertwined selves. You’ve etched the lyrics on his chest and his back. He has generously inscribed his words on you. You have scribbled the remnants of the woes of the chaos, on the canvas that is his body, while he engraves peace, on your body. All those incisions reach places, which, had only been subjected to concealment in dark, cavernous crevices of your flesh. His carvings on you are your consecration, while your inscriptions, he would fain have borne as adornments to his carnal encasement. Those marks are the coveted decorations you bejewel yourself with, embossed with balmy signatures stamped by his lips. viii. The turbulent musical refrain surging through your blood, has now seamlessly soothed, into the hum of a tranquil lullaby. Your limbs lie enmeshed in his, while his breath synchronises itself in a euphony with yours, freeing your lungs of the constrictions that were ushered by the fierceness of the octanes. The lyrical expressions now, form themselves in ringlets of his hair around your fingers, while you admire the ingenuousness of the slumber that he lies nestled in, as he clings to you sleepily. The silvery orb of the streetlight weaves lustrous cobwebs of its rays in your heaving eyelids, accentuated by him snuggling into you. ix. Nothing for you can transcend the paradisal sobriety of this moment that you are in, while, the night starts to wean itself into daylight, which has its perpetual set of cares to be attended, when a distinct tightening of his arms around you, dims the lullaby as well, while drifting you to faraway dreamlands immune to any sort of imperfections. He is there, and so are you, and that is all you need, want, and crave to live through the perils and the blessings that the mundane life carries as compulsory attachments.