If you go there, wait for me. And remember that night, that one night in which the stars were lit in the sky. And all around, the smell of honey engulfed your senses. Everything was pure and innocent, and just upon the happenings of all surprise, a love was born. Don’t happen to forget the look in his eyes when his world before him turned upside down.
Just around that corner of shops, a handsome, yet gentle man came into glance. Initially he was taken off guard and fell at the hands of uncertainty. Then upon looking further, he recognized an angel of his past. She was provocative, seductive, and led his imagination crazy. Not only her beauty, which far surpassed any blossom or Azalia, but the unending mystique which drove a merely unstable mind crazy. He’d been fighting for weeks to escape the thought of it. Even taking to the sea, with high spirits and an empty canvas. But as he subconsciously wished, his dreams came true. He received another day of experience with the most stunning and surreal of individuals he had ever met.
For it had felt like an eternity to him since they last exchanged fancies, and uncontrollably his heart beat; overjoyed for such an unexpected opportunity to arise. So he set foot onto the dusty road, imbedded with rocks, and his sandals loosely kicked them as his hands turned to a glistening shadow of sweat. Never before had he reached a level of anxiety such as that, and not once in his young life did he feel as confidently dismantled. It was the sole impulse with which he acted upon; an array of ambiguity and amaze. It was descriptively ironic—He, a man, charismatic and cunning, found in a spiraling tunnel of unknowingness, all because she, young and beautiful, possessed the power to arouse every one oh his senses, with just one look. And characteristically that’s all she had given to him, to that point. But his imagination ran wild with it, and many nights did his weary mind stay awake, burdened by the thought of never again experiencing it. Over and over, and unintentionally, he’d picture her smile, hoping that one day he could be the reason for its existence.
He continued across the beaten dirt of tire tracks, avoiding those who traveled their own routine. As he neared her, he had not the faintest idea what to say. Their relations to that point had been a sunny day, surrounded at a table by many contrasts. And even then, he did not speak beyond several words to her. So his words ran dry, and all he could do was imagine. Imagine a life, which his dreams proved true. Bushels of flowers, magic, honeydew. A life of simplicity, not idolatry. Kisses, embraces, affectionate fetishes.
With that, he proceeded the last strides, before a moment of predictably profound persistence. She stood there, directing a couple stray shoppers to their destination. Her back was to him, preventing an early unattached awkwardness. He waited patiently for her to finish. And rather than preparing an opening line for conversation, he fell into a trance of romantic optimism. She wore the purest white dress he had ever laid eyes on, and her figure was struck just shy enough by the sun to add depth for his perception. He watched, enchanted by the movement in her hands. As she turned around, he remained in a state of admiration. She looked up, and in the sudden recognition, she smiled. Then they kissed.
No comments:
Post a Comment