It wasn't enough to just talk to her. I had to know her, but I couldn't. It was one of those immutable ironies that leaves the heart heavy, and a feeling of such vast emptiness that one feels as if they could hold eternity within the confines of their chest.
With a cool breeze biting the skin, her cheeks were red as roses…my gift of flowers with the same name became less than she deserved if such beauty could be generated in her flesh from something as simple as a cold wisp of air.
And yet I stood there. I could not move. She was gravity, and yet I wanted to run. Despite her confidence I could not help but to think her lonely…or perhaps it was just her singular beauty. It was a cruel spirit that tormented me with a suggestion of enormity that nature had not afforded to me.
It was her hands, the way they caressed her hair as she flipped it from one side to the other…it called out to the universe with desperation…almost as if they felt that there was no other presence in all of creation. The longing for the touch of some other soul emanated from her skin and fresh scent of her personal fragrances…it left a trail for me to follow.
Everything about her was so potent that a man absent of the blessings of sight and smell could find her purely by the beating of his heart. So it is for me. I have wandered in the dark for the duration of an eternity, only to be at once brought into the burning sunlight of her presence.
I have spent every waking moment of my life reaching for her with a passion that is near obsession. I cannot help but wonder…
Would she dare to think of me?