She writhes in your head like an old time movie scene, moves in sepia on a multi faceted screen. And I say multi in an American way, to make it more real, to make my language more spectacular, because the scene becomes wooden and fragile, portraying what could have been. I feel what I feel, I feel, I feel, I fell, sweet dreams are made of these. Of her. Of her. It’s just a moment, one moment, a forever moment, a moment to last forever. Return, return, delete, rewind, eject, Play. Nothing but silence. Black eyes, black hair, splayed across my pillow. My cheekbones feel the cold, but there is nothing in the air but an hour of her beauty.
I see her tears, those that she has which to cry. They have built a mountain in her mind, drowned the molehill she never even saw. I drive away, I feel the gears crunch beneath my feet, the pressure on the accelerator, the music takes me away. The movie is static now, click, clack, the sound of the track. Ball bearings roll around the inside of my mind. She becomes the centre of gravity, the room spins and envelops all the background noise, the lights flicker and burn, your skin tingles and hairs freeze in anticipation , for her. Her. Her. Her. Time is nothing but time, man-made affluence which becomes influential in smoky rooms and dried out bars.
She has the kind of smile, religious in its endeavours , it wears a medal honouring the highest bravery that humankind can commit. She gives you a moment of peace and it lies beneath your feet waiting to settle on your skin. There is rain in the air, it starts in the west and rises with the sun, follows your footprints when you are on the run. Grasping at her clothes, her arms follow yours, you talk with your eyes, a language, of love, under the starriest skies. Lost in her whirlwind, I feel grounded in her grace, lost in the moment in the beauty of her face. And to think that she is an illusion of the majestic kind, her arrogance and emptiness have left her spurned and blind. And my footprints begin to fade.
Dancing in the garden underneath the stars, to music not heard by human eyes. Looking for belonging, looking for hope, sacred artefacts not found in the eyes of a lover. Shaking my head, shaking my bed, playing hide and seek with memories of snapshots taken before you were reborn. Lovelost and forelorn. Candles dance in the darkness, making shadows against the wall, fingers grasp for her, to feel her in your arms, to hear her speak your name, your name, your name, is beauty on her lips, sweet and hungry are those words which we wish to hear, felt by fear. Feelings, feelings left in a box on a shelf ******* with a bow, a gift, a wanton surprise.
Define real, define reality, define fallen. She wants a need she knows not of. How does this beginning end? I remember her as once we played with fire. Her introduction to me is not made. All I have to pay you with is faith and trust. She did not suffer once on this journey, she found her way in my arms, and found was I in her loss.
