As the night was filling with its jewels of transparent alchemy,I tool a walk within my solitude.The bridges that expended into the horizon seem to be spreading wider and longer.City lights hung over the river like a fine crystal Victorian chandelier.Made of glass lace and exuberant light.Breeze gently caressed my face and my skin and while I closed my eyes,memories purred out of my heart.Much like the hot melting wax glides down a tall thick candle.Nestling its fine warm substance at the bronze basin,dripping over the edges,so beautiful,so serene.
I do love when my memories over flood me.Its almost as if they take on a life on their own.A beautiful sand art creation on a big stained glass.They spread their life like texture,and hug me and kiss me.Making forms,figures,tales and stories of reality.Our reality.
There is a wood and cast iron bench not far from my reach.I admire the hands that built it.And I wonder,what did the maker think of while making it.Did he want a couple to lazily lay down on it.Wrapped in each other arms and softness.Her playful hair on his face and in her eyes.Dancing like a petal of a rose thrown from one of the bridges.It would swirl,and it would go this an that way,twisting and leaping up into thin air.Smelling like a fresh breath of air on new bornes' pink lips.An he loves it,he does.He would move those strands of hair off her eyes but not his face,no.He likes the smell of love on his face.Looking deep into her eyes,he sees so much.He sees himself,transforming into that last level of being.As if coming out of that life long cocoon shape,so ready so ready to go and spread his wings.He wants same wings like she has.Yes,no longer will she be the only one with such colorful extensions.He too will be as her.
The city noise seem to fade away.All the music and commotion dissipates like fog in wee hours over the oceans.Rich with fish,crabs,life.It all just dissipates.
All that is left is you and me.My fantasy,my beloved that is forever more closer.I know he is otherwise how else would I feel his presents so strongly. I send him our little telepathic messages.He gets them each and every time.And I take mental pictures of all my surroundings.Take my sandals of leather and bear foot I walk slower and faster at times.And I dance my silly dance because it makes him laugh.He says I have no rhythm,but he know I do.He can from far distance see my hips move ,and he sees my skirt lifting up and down.And air fills up with that child like laughter.His eyes glistens.And even their color changes into colors of his aura.And its like a rainbow burst,almost unnatural ,and I bath in that eurythmics.And pull him near me.He puts his face in palm of my hands and kisses it and kisses it and kisses it.The butterfly kisses land over my satin wet lips.Ummmm such a perfect series of love.
He sits in my fantasy bench and he puts my head on to his lap.Come Love he says,come let me sing for you.There are verses you have not yet heard before.I couldn't have truly because he had just made them up,that very moment.But they sound so perfect.And he kisses tips of his fingers,each individually ,then presses the tips on my nose.He says all of these one by one,for you,and I have more.He leans over me,and he whispers something, inarticulate,his very own secret.Shhhh he says.Dont let all the angel know.They have their own secrets and we never question them.Ohh but I wont tell,not ever.
I will however thank Heavens for us.I will write them all the time with a quill I found at the reef.Pages and pages of waxy memories.Our vary own.
I do love when my memories over flood me.Its almost as if they take on a life on their own.A beautiful sand art creation on a big stained glass.They spread their life like texture,and hug me and kiss me.Making forms,figures,tales and stories of reality.Our reality.
There is a wood and cast iron bench not far from my reach.I admire the hands that built it.And I wonder,what did the maker think of while making it.Did he want a couple to lazily lay down on it.Wrapped in each other arms and softness.Her playful hair on his face and in her eyes.Dancing like a petal of a rose thrown from one of the bridges.It would swirl,and it would go this an that way,twisting and leaping up into thin air.Smelling like a fresh breath of air on new bornes' pink lips.An he loves it,he does.He would move those strands of hair off her eyes but not his face,no.He likes the smell of love on his face.Looking deep into her eyes,he sees so much.He sees himself,transforming into that last level of being.As if coming out of that life long cocoon shape,so ready so ready to go and spread his wings.He wants same wings like she has.Yes,no longer will she be the only one with such colorful extensions.He too will be as her.
The city noise seem to fade away.All the music and commotion dissipates like fog in wee hours over the oceans.Rich with fish,crabs,life.It all just dissipates.
All that is left is you and me.My fantasy,my beloved that is forever more closer.I know he is otherwise how else would I feel his presents so strongly. I send him our little telepathic messages.He gets them each and every time.And I take mental pictures of all my surroundings.Take my sandals of leather and bear foot I walk slower and faster at times.And I dance my silly dance because it makes him laugh.He says I have no rhythm,but he know I do.He can from far distance see my hips move ,and he sees my skirt lifting up and down.And air fills up with that child like laughter.His eyes glistens.And even their color changes into colors of his aura.And its like a rainbow burst,almost unnatural ,and I bath in that eurythmics.And pull him near me.He puts his face in palm of my hands and kisses it and kisses it and kisses it.The butterfly kisses land over my satin wet lips.Ummmm such a perfect series of love.
He sits in my fantasy bench and he puts my head on to his lap.Come Love he says,come let me sing for you.There are verses you have not yet heard before.I couldn't have truly because he had just made them up,that very moment.But they sound so perfect.And he kisses tips of his fingers,each individually ,then presses the tips on my nose.He says all of these one by one,for you,and I have more.He leans over me,and he whispers something, inarticulate,his very own secret.Shhhh he says.Dont let all the angel know.They have their own secrets and we never question them.Ohh but I wont tell,not ever.
I will however thank Heavens for us.I will write them all the time with a quill I found at the reef.Pages and pages of waxy memories.Our vary own.
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