Ask to find. Don't run and hide. The person is not the pleasure which is in mind.
Just as fears are never lasting, ever fading fast we die.
So also should our conversations be more just than that in mind.
And yet I find...
That it is the pride of self expression, which comes most before the fall.
Perhaps our story has been recanted. And I did not share Me at all?
This is a bit of a reminder from self to humble myself. Because my perceptions are often quite far from the truth. No matter how much my intuition likes to affirm what I think. Such thoughts are just thoughts. I think.
It tasted like a windy summer night. Where the waxing gibbous moon was radiating; Lighting up the cloudless night and then reflecting on the surface of my heart.
Where every small movement of he makes – with his lips, hands and fingers caused ripples. They were exaggerated in the best way possible.
It tasted like a cold autumn night; Like the golden, sweet and sticky honey; drizzled over warm waffles and a hot cup of rose tea.
Where the waxing gibbous moon was glowing; Glowing through my curtains then onto my mirror, casting a reflection on my bed.
Where he lies all day, Waiting for me to return from reality – to where I truly belong. Where we waltzed with stars and I slide down the Milky Way right into his arms.
I am a nefelibata.
This is a true recount of my feelings for someone. I have an obsession with a moon, stars and whatever that is in the universe/ outer space. I often feel inspired by when I see the moon. From my room, I have a clear view of the moonlit sky and it feels very comforting.