THE LOVE, THE FEELINGS...BY mutie oscar ghitto

the love. the feelings. the burn. they feel it. they melt under it, and drown under it. i watch. like an overseer on his land, i stroll. i let the eyes do their work. then i can feel it. Their search. critical and careful. for signs. any signs. And it pays. am ecstatic. am proud. the mud has been washed. I knew it. i swear i knew it. it was feigned. Artificial feelings. manufactured feelings. And she fell for it. And she writhed, when he was unwrapping his 'parcel'. she writhed, when he was 'admiring' his gift. and he was done with it. He was fed up with it. he threw it. Again, i saw it. The tear. A swollen bit. Swollen and bitter. It came rolling, from her left eye. wetting the path it had taken. Wetting the sorrow. giving strength to those mixed feelings. how could he? I, see it. And then i tucked it somewhere in mine heart. so that i digested it. so that i learnt it. the flowers. The cards. The dinner. The wine. And before a day was wrapped, a soul was lost. a soul. A human soul. Sometimes i wonder how the spirits can pounce on one another. a blow upon a blow. And before they can know it, the damage has been done. Valentine. My heart registers these same feelings. sad feelings. For i know, a soul shall be lost. I am weary. For i know, I shall meet a soul. A soul wandering about. Lost. Disturbed. I sigh. A smile escapes my lips. Am almost certain. It is going to happen again. So unfortunate. THE VALENTINE.