She, was waiting for time. She had been waiting for four years, and yet silence is all she always had. Her hands were sweating, and her heart pounding hard. The wind kept on singing, and leaves fell everywhere near her. She had flowers in her hair and feet. She wanted a future, but decided for an end. Her companion sat next to her licking her cheek and waiting just as anxious. She looked into her eyes and felt she was, heart broken, but not alone. She breathed in the smell of sea breeze and felt comfort. "This is what makes me", she repeated until truth echoed in her entire body. This moment would change her, this she knew. To let go of familiarity, his scent, the feel of his skin. She was letting go a life of one sided passion.
The gates opened, and four years walked in. He made noise as he ruffled the fallen leaves. He was always so poised and calm, she was the wind, the earth, the sound of laughter. He was the stillness in the night. What do you say when confronted by such a face? The face of a child man, the face of innocence. As they stared into each others eyes, he couldnt help but smile and she couldnt stop the tears.
Life passed through their minds. Their life together, was never a clean canvas. It was color mounted into color, the thickness of it all always made it impossible to start over. He was realism and she was post impressionism. None, could have found a way to merge. When passion from color wanted to dance with his classic lines, they realized how incredibly odd and different they were. Classic lines, classic needs. Passionate colors, diverse sorrows. He wanted a Vermeer painting, all dark and sullen. She desired Edvard Munch, an emotional experience, a physical trance, to ride naked, to be naked to the world.
Finally, He walked closer to her, seeing how this ruffled her like a tree in the mercy of a tornado. Cruelty comes in all shapes. His was likea soothing balm. She waited for his body and desired no longer his heart. As he came closer, she closed her eyes and said "This is how you made me". He embraced her, and the proximity took her by surprise and chilled her bones. So many years without passion can leave you numb and when you finally feel something, its intense.
"You know what I'm about to do, dont you?"
"I do."
"Can you give me a reason to continue waiting?"
"I have nothing. Nothing to give you."
"Always so still and cold"
"Always so emotional and passionate"
Nothing....
Without a word. Without a touch. Simply gazing into their past and no future. They had no future to call upon. No hope to save them. Could you have saved them? Could you have convinced them to try? To fight for what used to unite them? What would you have said?
She was waiting for time. But she decided time should try to catch up with her. After all, she is the wind, the sound of singing leaves, she is the moment someone decides to move on. And that moment, is now.
The gates opened, and four years walked in. He made noise as he ruffled the fallen leaves. He was always so poised and calm, she was the wind, the earth, the sound of laughter. He was the stillness in the night. What do you say when confronted by such a face? The face of a child man, the face of innocence. As they stared into each others eyes, he couldnt help but smile and she couldnt stop the tears.
Life passed through their minds. Their life together, was never a clean canvas. It was color mounted into color, the thickness of it all always made it impossible to start over. He was realism and she was post impressionism. None, could have found a way to merge. When passion from color wanted to dance with his classic lines, they realized how incredibly odd and different they were. Classic lines, classic needs. Passionate colors, diverse sorrows. He wanted a Vermeer painting, all dark and sullen. She desired Edvard Munch, an emotional experience, a physical trance, to ride naked, to be naked to the world.
Finally, He walked closer to her, seeing how this ruffled her like a tree in the mercy of a tornado. Cruelty comes in all shapes. His was likea soothing balm. She waited for his body and desired no longer his heart. As he came closer, she closed her eyes and said "This is how you made me". He embraced her, and the proximity took her by surprise and chilled her bones. So many years without passion can leave you numb and when you finally feel something, its intense.
"You know what I'm about to do, dont you?"
"I do."
"Can you give me a reason to continue waiting?"
"I have nothing. Nothing to give you."
"Always so still and cold"
"Always so emotional and passionate"
Nothing....
Without a word. Without a touch. Simply gazing into their past and no future. They had no future to call upon. No hope to save them. Could you have saved them? Could you have convinced them to try? To fight for what used to unite them? What would you have said?
She was waiting for time. But she decided time should try to catch up with her. After all, she is the wind, the sound of singing leaves, she is the moment someone decides to move on. And that moment, is now.
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| Art from www.artmajeur.com |
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