Thud, Kathunka, Thud

Thud, Kathunka, Thud

And to think that everything in the world starts with love

A man and a woman are sitting

in a café with their eyes locked and their hearts thudding

with that intangible look in their eyes and their wish

to speak the words “I love you and I miss

you” even though they are there together and their hands

are intertwined. She uses her finger to trace along the bones in his hands

and trace invisible hearts onto his cream-colored skin to show her love

for him without speaking the words aloud. She knows she must leave or else she’ll miss

her bus. The god forsaken bus that takes her away from him where she must sit

in seclusion, staring through the grime streaked windows at the sun wishing

that she could relax in the sun’s rays in his arms as her heart begins to thud

faster and faster. Her heart races flutters and thuds

so loudly she thinks the whole bus can hear and the palms of her hands

start to sweat because of that false memory that she wishes

were true. Oh, how the girl wishes it were true, as true as her love

for the man, who remains in that café with his cup of coffee sitting

staring out the front window of that café as he checks his phone for a missed

call or a text message from a friend that he missed

because he could not hear or feel the vibration from his phone over the sound of the thudding

of his heart as he ate lunch with the woman, sitting

at the table by the window in the sunlight that made the skin of his hands

look luminescent. The light that reflected off his skin made him think how love

made him glow and have that aura of happiness around him. He wished

that the girl would be thinking of him as she looked up at the night sky later and made her wish

and that maybe that wish would come true and shorten that agonizing period of time of missing

each other. Oh, how the man was madly in love

with that woman. He imagined going to her apartment unannounced and knocking, thudding

on her door until she came to the door, with a smile on her face, TV remote in hand

and her asking him if he’d like to come in an sit

a while with her on the green and tan striped couch. They would sit

and talk about things of the world and what they wished

for the future. Their fingers would intertwine like vines as they held hands

on that green and tan striped couch. The phones could ring off the hook but they wouldn’t care about the missed

calls they were receiving. The only significant sounds in their world was the sounds of the thudding

of their hearts syncing up to one another, in the perfect harmony called love.

Fingers like vines sprouting from their hands becoming inseparable as they sit

there, fully enveloped in the love they have wished

for their entire lives. Miss becomes Mrs. and the two thuds become one thud.