Time, Think, Time!

I should have most probably given it more time, but I knew I was losing it again. Any longer delay and I would not have been able to hold it together. It was one of those moments when with a rash one actually feels the sands of time sieving away through the fingers and the tighter you try to make your grasp onto them, the less space you leave at the palm of your hand for the remaining grains. So I concentrated on the sand and got into action. 

It was a frozen look... or a freezing look, I do not remember. All I know is that something froze... and someone along with it. I preferred to say that something left and took my someone with it but nothing was moved, nothing was taken away, it was all there, frozen, right in front of my hands, trying to defeat the sands of time.

Gasp!

Yes I had to gasp for more air just to realize hug rough it felt, with the sand filling up my lungs. I could not help but imagine the sandish brown on my perfectly pink lungs, covering up, sticking, not letting go, piling up and blocking every whole, from which oxygen might have escaped into my blood. I tried to cough, tried to cough really hard which did not want to help. At a point I solely felt sorry for my pretty lungs.

And I heard it again in the wind. Someone was singing in the wind. It was like a breeze of hope, like a message that things will not stay the same. I did not care which way the course of time would take them, as long as I knew change was on the way. I even got to the point of believing it was time itself singing in the wind.

The time kept singing and I stopped to care. 

At the Mercy of Frost

It is a new madness

knocking our door this time

hasty, passionate and with an indescribable rage.

None of us needed a glance at the other

for its rage was far more familiar

than any other tune echoing inside these walls;

yet it was a brilliant new madness.

When the frozen tear touched the wound on your hand

it was the prettiest snowflake my eyes had even known

yet our minds had wandered off on a too long a path

to turn that mesmerizing beauty into anything

but a cold moment of relief on the dashing red on your hand.

The roads lost their destinations to the storm.

Our footsteps started disappearing

and the winds...

The winds they stole away every song we had ever sung,

as they had already taken away the song of every tree on our path.

It was the new madness

not letting the wounds on your hands heal

knocking eagerly on a door it most certainly did not intend to open

and walls resonating to its vicious knocks

brick for brick, column for column.

Words started to flee from in between the bricks.

Every intention behind every thought sought shelter at the serenity of oblivion.

The dazzling look in your eyes gave in to the resonance,

when I wished upon...

It did not matter.

I just wished upon.

I wished.

It was the moment I realized I still had the will to make a wish.

I finally heard every single knock on the rotten door;

It was a whole new madness.

Darksky

It took decades before I finally learned to listen to the silent of the night;

All the unspoken wisdom of universes crawling over the velvet black upon me.

Only at the darkness of the nightsky my eyes finally captured the dim light of the faraway shooting star;

leaving a brightest thin red line behind,

just as the star was burning out in front of my now shimmering eyes.

Even when the star had died away, the trail still remained on the intact black for an instant,

like a pathway to all my long forgotten dreams.

for my heart to bear no more doubt;

In the silence of a pure darkness.

A Call

Sunlight trying eagerly to reach down to a lonely earth left beneath confused trees trapped among skyscrapers or shall it be a chilly breeze at a moment you least expected it. It is always like the effect of green painting all over gray when you suddenly discover a tiny plant trying to overcome the hard of the asphalt and responding to spring right in front of where you stepped with your left foot.

Always a Call of one sort or another...

Or maybe it is the moment to realize that the call can no longer be ignored?

Then it is hesitation, volunteering to be the first one jumping to conclusions. It is the fear of decision taking over and the wish, not to have heard the call. Memories and dreams are next in the line, along with confusion, self confidence, determination, expectations and then again hesitation.

One single moment of silence

helplessness...

The one moment

to realize the pain, the justification of all fear, the empty prints of loving hands and loved glances on a narrow path leading to a destination yet to be determined.

It is the very same moment to know that the Call will always be there, one only for you.

Mirror

A quick glance in the mirror and I knew I looked extraordinarily beautiful today. I wonder if it has anything to do with the dreams I had last night. I dreamt of some men I have had before, of some I wanted to have and of a man I will never have. I still wonder if such dreams make a woman appear so shining and pretty. Maybe it were not the dreams I had at night, but rather the dreams that I have, the dreams I always bear in my head and in my chest, the whole world I always keep dreaming of, maybe I have been allowed inside and came back here, and traces were left on my face or maybe on my reflection in the mirror, or even on my eyes, over my gaze upon the fragments of light leaving the glass surface in such a rush just to reach my dark eyes in time.

I definitely looked beautiful this morning. 

Fingers

Your fingertips, they said it all, there was no need for my words. 
At first I though some strangers were floating in the air and it took me ages to realize that they were solely ‘looks’ having gained a purpose beyond our conscious. 
Still your fingertips were touching them, caressing them gently and delightfully playing with them. Looks from my eyes and from yours, hovering in the space left between us; in a space we left wide open as our hands separated, as the everlasting moment gained distance; the moment when I knew you were and you knew that I stood there watching you. 
You left fingerprints all over the magic surrounding the moment and the magic that anxiously held on to our hands; you left fingerprints on the looks in our eyes, for I was still far too scared to dare any direct contact. Such a fool I was back then not to recognize your fingerprints already all over my eyes!