The summer was ambling on, in that sheepish, jaunty way that she tends to. I held tight to the mug handle that circumnavigated my finger and stared vigorously into it in search of any sense of dignity and desire. The cream formed shapes within my coffee -- portraying various Rorschach manifestations. What did i see?
that golden crown? that spawn of winter? her eyes, under water? a wilting flower? a lilting hour? a listless girl?
"You are not a rakish man, -- perhaps the word 'brackish' is more becoming of your visage," she responded.
"hmmm, that was very salty of you to say," i said.
Night was falling. calling. falling. We sat freeze-framed at the table as the rest of the patrons were moving in fast-forward. She cleared her throat. Someone's cigarette smoke had found its way from outside to our table. We greeted it with disdain.
Latent desires consumed every awkward movement. Autumn was on her way. Her orange fingers at our feet. She would come to carry me home. soon. home/soon.
*~answered prayers/prayers answered~*
She was suddenly pretty. Her hand smoothed and readjusted her hair, which was partially tied up and partially cascading down. I love when things are askew, unkempt, disheveled. Chaos in a chaotic world. the truth foretold. "She speaks yet she says nothing."
"You are simultaneously so loud and so quiet. You are very outgoing and also very shy." She smirked.
I could not find a clever or truthful way to respond. I examined the lives of so many other people, but I have always neglected to examine my own. I believe that I am quite a linear person. It is as if I have remained unchanged through the years. In my opinion, I am everything that I ever was. nothing more. nevermore. forevermore. allure. the sea and the shore.
Her eyes shined "as daylight doth a lamp...through an airy region...so bright, that birds would sing and think that it were not night."
"I suppose I am like the seasons, I change, yet I always remain the same," I claimed.
"Perhaps," she said, through the most beautiful and natural smile I have ever received.
"I think Persephone has 'kissed me quite insane'," I insisted.
Maybe I will get lucky and be metamophosized into a sunflower. My sole/soul objective being to follow Apollo's chariot burn its way across the sky. The most beautiful routine anyone has ever fathomed.
Would she share such a hope? I wanted to know so much about her. I wanted her to like me for me. Her name was NOT Sara with no "h." I suppose rules were made to be broken. as were hearts~*
I dream in violet. violent. violet. Her sepia ways intrigue my grayscale perspectives. The longing that drips from my eyes compels her to 'breathe water.' Her foot grazed mine beneath the table...i was filled with hysterical shocks of hysterical electricity. A culmination of the "thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to." Our instant tryst lived an entire life in a mere moment in time.
Her hand touched her face.
"Tell me about yourself, I know very little about you. I tend to ramble, but I really want to get to know you," I urged.
"Well, I am a 'traveler of both time and space' just just like yourself. I know it sounds cliche but I am still searching for who I am," she responded.
"Tell you what, I will search for you, if you search for me. When and if we find who each other should be, we can trade, and then everything will be in its right place." I bargained. with the hope of a trillion photons cast through an ancient keyhole.
"hahaha. deal! But, what if i find who you are supposed to be and i REFUSE to give him up?" She asked?
"'That is a consumation devoutly to be wished.' If that happens I will hold who you are supposed to be, captive and then a mystery is born." I exclaimed.
"If you have who I am supposed to be, and I have who you are supposed to be, I guess we cannot stray too far from eachother!" She surmised elegantly.
*~Hearts replaced the stars~* in the sky. I looked directly at her, and then I looked away. I was disarmed. A feeling quite foreign to me. The temperature outside was falling. Just don't leave...please don't leave. A friendship caught on fire~* I was on fire...no lack of oxygen. I need this. I have traveled. I am weathered. I am tired of being too late/early. late. When I was young I had so much to give. I have so much to give. no lack of oxygen...
"A beautiful life that would be." I whispered to her...looking at her with sideways eyes.
"beautiful indeed." She whispered back.
"It is a beautiful rain." I said.
"beautiful indeed." She whispered back.
The rain curtained the outside world. I was safe inside...beneath the constellation shaped like an umbrella that surrounded her. My hand was on my coffee mug. Her hand was on hers. She reached across the synapse between our hands with her tiny finger and placed it upon mine. All of my blood was instantly replaced with molten lava. I lost the ability to speak. to move. to breathe. to sigh. to dream. to sleep. to wake. to live. to die. to crrrrrrrrry. One million bright butterflies were released within my body.
alllllllwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyysssssssssssssssss....
Some moments in life, despite their brevity seem to last forever. I knew the borders of her country. I knew the great divide. I knew the truth. Shakespeare has written that "cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once." I feel as if I have already died a thousand times. What is love, anyway? Is it longevity? Is it a single instance -- a spark? Love changes. Love misleads. Love confuses. Love tempts. Love compels. Love inspires. LoVe leaves. Love never leaves. Love hopes.
"Our life together was soooo pretty," she smiled. crestfallen smile.
her hand still on mine.....
"I imagine it was. " I responded through a sea of stars~*.
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born of the Night. Love and Desire. Responsible for the embrace of Heaven and Earth. Psyche. midnight vespers. ravenous. "exit seraphim and Satan's men."
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