Sacred Union

She lay there. Beside me. The monotonous hum of the fan, solemnizing our union. Strands of her hair caressing my face every now and then. A rara avis she was, in a league of her own. And to compliment her persona, she never really cared.

Despite of how cliché it may sound, I honestly think I am the luckiest man in the world. I’m so proud of her, my lover, my wife and (excuse me if I’m sounding dramatic) my life!!

I watched her, deep in her sweet slumber and wondered if I ever featured in any part of her secret dream world. It was such a pleasure to see her serene face lit by a faint candle flame. Her unusual mesmerizing beauty was a reflection of the Sacred Feminine, I believed.

A loud honk from a bus outside filled the air wit ugly reverberations. But with so much beauty around, that hardly survived. Beauty …….an ailment to balance out all the ugliness in the world.

The bullet hole adorns her forehead. Beads of dried blood looks like an eccentric sequins’ work. Must have hurt for a while .But now she is alright, I guess. She is asleep. Peaceful. Calm .Cold.

It’s almost three hours since I last heard her shriek. I hope I dint hurt her too much. Her fingers feel like popsicles wrapped in my palm. What if they thaw and melt way?

Nothing matters anymore now. There is so much beauty that it’ll prevent all ugly things from happening. Nothing matters anymore except the hum solemnizing our union, with her peacefully asleep. Calm. Quite. Cold. I’m, the luckiest man in the whole world.