Autumn Desire.

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     The burning hell amused me. There was no ocean flooding those eyes but the insensitiveness of a broken man. He possessed the keys of many hearts but he preferred locking his. Even his smile was hidden. His lips curved politely when he laughed at a joke but I didn’t feel that laughter coming out as joy. It seemed more like a depressive loneliness. Each word that came out of his mouth insinuated something different from the true definition of it. His body was rocking by the music he listened and I could do nothing else but keep staring at him. Whether his hell accepted me or not, I insisted on staying despite the emotional disturbance that his demons were causing me.

     The crowd stopped my exasperating thoughts. Even the trees were too noisy while letting their dry leaves fall on the ground. They had created a majestic view that could calm any bittered heart. For a minute I forced myself to stop and stare at them. They didn’t seem dead to me. Neither his soul was dead. It resembled to those dried leaves of autumn. They didn’t seem alive to every person but only to those who cared enough to indulge into the spiritual world which they were keeping guarded from the cyclones of life.
     Every day I knew more of this man even if his depths were unreachable. I was still floating on the surface of his thoughts but that was enough for now. I was waiting for him to take away his sharks and let me dive in a little bit deeper. I just wanted to be the goldfish that would interject into his unabated waters.

The deepest ocean.

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There is only one feeling I can’t handle. Loss. For a moment I felt your mind drifting away from me, like your heart suddenly froze me away. Tears were shadowing my tired eyes and I couldn’t stop. Sometimes I wonder; what are you doing to me? How is it possible that your soul can set sail on other oceans so ruthlessly? Maybe I’m too scared to live you. I inhale and for a few seconds I take you in; running through my veins. Your oxygen is mine or perhaps you are my oxygen. But then I think;there is a possibility you’re scared; because I’m the deepest and darkest of all waters; but you shouldn’t my love; you are the light on my darkness. As long as you have the courage to drink me I’ll be all yours to swim.

Now, I dream of stars and the face that’s shadowed before me eyes keeps me awake, feeling the cold water while swimming in a lake with swans. They have a pure blanc color, a marvellous view which endeavours freedom. An hour later I’m safe again; you’re still here. 

Sleepless Lovers

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It is that thin line of red and blue which for many of us may seem purple. It’s nothing but the obvious border line when the sun at dawn touches the calm, fragile sea. That precious moment feels boundless. But the line is not thin and most importantly, it’s not breaking up those who alimented the infinity. The line is bonding and immensely long. It crosses oceans, continents and hearts. It crossed mine if you wonder how I know. And you read it and wonder; am I implying a bad thing with that? But the answer is not mine to give. You see; when the sun goes down and the line’s fading, there comes the moon, the greatest of all children of Love and keeps the line straight into its’ position, infinite among the deepest waters. At dusk, there is that second when they both rule the universe and the view is magnificent. But who gets to see it except us the sleepless lovers who dream of fairy tales and happy endings at that hour?

For one millisecond I believed it and the dream made me laugh but the wood under my head hurt. My eyes flickered and I got to see the light but somehow, unwillingly, I was pulled back into deep sleep.

This time the line had thickened and it was no more of that purple. It was carmine mixed with that bright yellow of winter lemons; and the sun was gloriously shining above us; there weren’t oceans in front of me. There were drops of water like it had rained but it hadn’t, the sole smelling of fresh grapes, the ones my grandma used to cultivate in her garden. But I never enjoyed eating ours ’cause our neighbour’s seemed more delicious, more beautiful and definitely more dangerous. It was the feeling that came with it; the stealing. But it wasn’t like we stole some fortune, just a hand of reddish grapes. It was exquisite. So it was that morning. The morning I stared at him sleeping. Everybody was, but being lonely didn’t hurt. It was the first time it didn’t hurt.

The marble stairs were old; my poor great grandmother had build them. The memories of walking down on them were painful because I missed that place; but now, they’re not. Every step down is a memoir of him sleeping. I stopped after the third and sat on the forth. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to lay next to him but it was too late to do that. I had him in my mind, imagining how he’d be that moment, what he may dream about. I caught myself smiling. He had taken the whole bed to himself and without thinking I rushed in and watched him. I was afraid he’ll wake up so I didn’t stay more than just for one look. I got back on the forth step and took a look in front of me. My thoughts were blurred but calm; oh, so calm! There was only silence around me. The view in front of me consisted of nothing but green hills and the leftovers from the previous night. Once I stepped down the rest of the stairs, the grass was watery; cold. Instinctively I washed my faced, brushed my teeth and listened to the small river by the house. Still, it was too quiet but my mind got noisy by my own thoughts. I hadn’t realised what had just happened. That night he was mine and I was his. Not in the way many would imply. It was maybe that innocent type of connection, but an unforgettable one. I smiled at my thoughts. That stupid smile of love; so I decided to go back and take one more look at him. I opened the door the more quietly I could but I couldn’t resist so I sat next to him. The music was still playing on my laptop the songs we had picked for the night. He was like a kid but my man, the one I used to dream of every night in the last two years. I couldn’t get my eyes off him and the intensity of my look disturbed his sleep. He opened his eyes, smiled at me and gave me the most precious of all ‘good mornings’.

My heart pounded of love and that’s why I say the line thickened. If there weren’t any ground rules to my emotions, now they had set foot to the infinite lines of the universes. The sunlight was an outburst of sympathy for my soul which I never expected to be given. So I felt it. The purple, the yellowish, all of his shades, all reflected on my heart. And that’s how he was imprinted in me, as a shadow of colours, neither black nor white, his colours.