I called her a dream, the one that woke me up in the weird time of the night, the one that sat in the middle of a crescent moon and waved her hands, the one who walked over the moonglade to the shore like a meteor of bunch of rose petals. I called her a dream, the moment she stood close leaving a kissing distance with cosy shy and warm femininity. The fragrance, of artificial mixture of chemicals along with the pheromone of hormones that puts any intelligent brain in trance, that she carried made me call her a dream.
The fire was burning and the heat scorching, the fire that couldn’t be touched though the wave of flame pulls you to embrace but I know the fire cannot be cuddled until the fire wants to engulf you and make you a celestial being, I called her a dream. Just for a fraction of a second the wave caressed and to put the dead cold water in me to boil. The touch was soft, short living, and fervour, intense, lightening, nerve-rejuvenating and reminiscing. It was a confabulation of souls that were dying to live together.
She stopped my saccades with her eyes when she realized that she has put a ball of fire inside an ocean of ice. The ball heated up the liquid and made a hole in the frozen sea. I wanted her to put her forehead on my chest kiss and turn her ear to my heart and hold my heart with her hands from jumping out from the rib cage. She stood looking deep into my pupils making it dilate with the fumes of urge to hold her by her torso and to make her eyes close over my lips and fly high in with the joy induced drug forgetting the mortals around.
It was a rain over a draught hit land, lighting over a dry tree the rendezvous could be rejected not and can swim not in the flash flood; I went down on my knee to ask for her hands, to ask permission to read between the lines of her lips. She didn’t give her hand instead placed her palm over my head, caressed my hair and said – " I’m here, dear weeping heart, I’m here. O old soul I know you but long forgotten. You are only a precipitation of memory in my heart, to reckon about how we were related was a tough task. Dear love, I’m here but remember I’m only a dream, wake up"
She called herself a dream. I called her a dream.
