In the gentle wind of spring, her eyelashes would dance with an urgency; almost a desperation she thought no one could see. Looking on as he walked by, wonderment followed by a curt dismissal. It was a while before I realized: we all seek answers, but what of the multitude of questions they uncover?
Few revel in the heaping chaos that grows as answers start to pile up around us: stale. Would she go home walking through the same fantasies? Those tired, trodden what ifs…or will he finally turn around, wipe his palms and say hello? Tiny moments of pure abandonment, where we forget ourselves; so deeply enthralled by another, brought down to our purest forms.
She’d seek him out every morning, not to actually say anything to him, not even because it gave her any kind of joy; she just wanted to know. Maybe she was testing herself, ‘today, I’ll know why…’ But every morning the search, and the gaze – finding its treasure – hiding itself, confused by its own actions.
Thoughts that shackle us: explanations for why, who, when and how? What exactly? To process these into thoughts and words, would be to empty the ocean to explore it. An inclination, a leaning…a fond gravitation to his being. ‘Wise men say, only fools rush in…’ she writes before she wanders into that dark space of uncertainty, of random coherency; into her dreams.
How I miss those spring breezes, caressing my cheeks with a hint of cool, as though whispering that life’s here to stay. At the same time, pinching me with that teasing heat; a lover struggles, forever waiting by the bay. ‘…but I can’t help falling in love with you’, he scribbles.
Written on Wednesday, May 13, 2021
Comments