He took her in his arms, under starless skies, after a walk by the seaboard of the old city; and its tight modest streets. It was a moment of lure, which she wished could last for more than few hours; which she wished she could absorb for longer than everlastingness. But time – defector of years-bound-powerless humans – was never on her side; why would it this time be?
They talked about a million things that night; of the mundane and the supernatural, of their dreams, passions and fears... And for a while she sensed the line drawn earlier beginning to wane - that desire is taking over the rules of the ordinary and the pre-assumed. It was only natural to have these thoughts in her head. It was only natural for her yearning to be colored, with the colors of the sea, skies and night reverberations. But the colors were misleading. They were placing her in a sense of steadiness that was only made of imperceptible nonexistent threads linking his captivating words to the enigmatic scenery around her.
Could it be that her imagination is taking over again? Could it be that her infatuation with the magic of the night is affecting her senses – again – drawing what she would like to see happening while at the same time wiping away what reality is giving her? Could it be that momentary madness has extended and exceeded the limits of the moment; to take shape in eternity while reigning over a single night?
His words blocked her contact with reality and shifted her senses to the realm of illusion that he has created, facilitated by the moonlight, the scents of the night and the ambiance of the old city. As they sat by the street watching late night passers-by, she found herself stuck contemplating the darkness up above, and that deep within. Should she surrender to her daydreaming mind one more time, willingly leaving space and prospect for it to lead her to another calamity? Should she draw back the line that started to fade earlier that night and draw with it the breaks without which she will constantly be living her double life? What is more heart aching; not living up to her dreams, or lacking any dreams at all?
Poems for Jennifer II - There is a new book by David McLean out at Nickel Hole Press. It's called, with huge imagination, Poems for Jennifer II. It will be available at Barnes & N...
3 weeks ago