.LOVE me.
I held him around the waist, as he gazed upon my withering eyes that have witnessed years of tears and loneliness. And I, laying mine into his innocent graceful eyes, spoke so many words, so many wishes and dreams. My darkened eyes, twinkling around, brushing out terrified evils, relieving itself of past failures and of broken innocence, reordering bits of divinity, and his pure inquisitive nature pondering on my foul misconducts, overlooked what I strongly hated. He saw a tiny light beaming concaved in me, and was marveled. He elevated his left hand, cuddling it upon my chin, and gracefully lifting it above, and shed a tear for the pillows of tears that crowded my soul and lead me to carry on my burden unto him.
He called me by name, and I called him the names of sweet desserts, and he did not mind. Though his names attained no originality, the sound of my voice sustained a tone only meant for him; and I loved the way he knew. The way he confided his secrets as a new jewel to my treasure chest, the way he poured his worries and sorrows upon my heart as though I was more than a mere fragile girl. He knew I was unstable, inconsistent and lacked the desire of affection, and yet he flew with me, to places I never would have imagined. Places where quietness and passion dwelt, the raw fruit of the present seized control of tomorrow, where holding hands lasted years within the soul and the moonlight’s admiration emitting everlasting light.
We brought wholeness to one another, completed unspoken thoughts that lingered within our hearts. And even though our paths were as separate as fire and water, our differences brought us happiness. The silent happiness only witnessed from the winds melodiously hitting the leaves of a tree and the serenity of a youths first love. We both did not dare to speak up on our truth, for the future was unreal. That carried two highways destined with tattoos of her birth name, dispersing our touches and the stars that fell upon our laps that once covered us with sands of unity, totality, fullness of the eclipse and unstoppable time. We dictated what the future would plan for us, not boasting our intense affair to the world, we just gave our hearts to one another. Under the same sky, we bare our seeds, watering it with our constant company and continuous familiarity.
And I laid upon him, hoping that the stars would lose its zeal, the moon would fade away and the sun would lose its sheen. Immersing our deep spirits into a the river that guided us towards one another, and losing grip of two strange pairs that were mistakenly bonded in some mental and emotional state. Hoping that the ugly world of loneliness would spread its shadows upon me, and the tears awaiting to come would occupy its space and would not charge up as soon as before. And the grey clouds of suffering would have some patience for a returning member, and bare less sensation. As I poured myself out to this individual that would roam the stations of the civilized world, I remain floating in his presence, feeling his touch, memorizing every finger print, adoring the secret corporation that we built upon the creamed color magnolia room, over the pillar, deliberately concealed from nomadic eyes and hears. How such a strong obsession for one another can overtake us, was beyond us. How one minute lasted for eternality, amazed us. Within our unconventional gathering, we yearned for one another, as though our rivers flowed within the other.
In our hearts it felt as though time dragged its legs, favoring our existence and respectfully saluting us. Softly gripping his last remains, I had of this time, and satisfyingly receiving the same in return. The sturdiness of his hand, softly graced upon the cheeks of my face, bringing me into a time of glittering and a magical portal that was only decorated and accessible to hypnotized pairs that we were. There we were one and nothing held us apart, except for our return to reality. There we found ourselves delving into one another, and writing the pages to a new chapter of our love novel, before letting the novel float upon our river, confiding in the moonlights care. We did not plan this new friendship, but we could not let go, because if we did, we would not watch our seeds blossom into flowers. We both feared not one another, not the world, but the unknown.
Our paths never reunited nor did it come across paths of the same ruins. The moonlight died on that youthful summer. When shipment came, his words faded into the ashes of the day, firing mental thoughts into mind that lasted forever. Our infatuation left behind the cob webs of dust, grim and secretly spoken words of an affair. Time tables of unplanned events, empty gray rooms filled with unwanted dried clouds, black swarms eating the remains of an unpublished love novel that was wrote by insuperable young adults, tangling us into a fear of new memories, and new places, pushing us into isolation.
Under the same sky, as I watch the cars on the roads, hasting away to rules and regulations, I unknowingly squint my eyes, as though a man was arriving towards my sidewalk, believing he raised his right hand to wave. I force a new, unfamiliar smile that imposes into my quite event of sitting on the rusted old porch, facing away from the white-creamed house, I wait upon the seed, watering it with the river that flows in me, waiting on it to grow. I waited for many years. It never grew.
