Love Shorts #14

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What does it mean to meet her after a long while?
In her absence, I used to look at her photos in my mobile phone and touch her face with my fingers to feel her presence.
I used to write short messages to her on the foggy bathroom mirror.
I used to think of great lines I would say to her when we meet.
Presently, she says with a smile,  ''Finally we meet',' and I spontaneously express my heartfelt emotions to her and say, ''Yes, hi.''
''You just don't understand  communication,'' I tell myself.
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Love Shorts #1-4

This January I plan to write about a 100 word semi complete love story. This is my submission for day 4, followed by the previous 3 days. Stay tuned for more.

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₹4
The wet leaves tell me that the night was foggy. My wet cheeks tell me that she was here.  For all our conflicts she dug a graveyard, and tilted its mud with hand and love for fresh flowers to grow. Each morning is a spring with her. ''How do you forget and forgive so easily,'' I text her. ''I neither forgive nor forget. I am saving it all for your doom's day.'' She texts back with a wink emoticon.
The spring has been crashed by a storm.

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#3
She sits at the window for long hours longing for her moon The night is chilly and she is cold. She fears not its coldness; she has become one with the night. She is determined to stay awake for the moment when the sky breaks down and sends her moon to her.
I watch her sitting at the window for  long hours longing for her moon. I pray either she attains her moon or I attain mine.

#2
At times her laughter chokes her words. At times, she finishes her sentence in a hurry to moan. At times, she innocently teases me with her mocks. At times she keeps on talking without a pause. At times, she speaks every word with an effort, and at a pitch cube root of her normal day voice. I see all these coming as I follow her eyes. And yet, even when I know that she is down, I keep asking her'How are you?'' For I hear that most people answer falsely to this question. ''I am fine, '' she says. And I hope it turns out that way.

#1
She greets me with her tender feather touch as fresh cream floating on milk and then begins the theatre in her eyes, where I see multiple scenes at once. Not sparing me time for a knee jerk , she beckons me with the most encharming darkness as she covers my face with the clouds of her hair.  Ending the exhibition with her most beautiful smile, she asks, ''You call yourself a poet and cannot write something on my beauty?''
I sink in her air and smile, ''I am not a poet if I write on that aspect of your beauty, which is for all to see.''
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I would love your feedback on these pieces and if you have any sub theme for my next piece, I would try to write on it.

Thanks for the read.
Cheers.