Love Type II
Steer I :
Love is vehemence . I think it is all about longing. The yearning to see her again. Sweet poison they call it. The only one , which as it trickles down your veins gives you elysian dulcet. It is the pleasure in the pain.
They build their entire lives around those few moments. They live just for that life. Every new day brings the effervescence of the fulfillment of the dream and every night with the peace that one more day has gone down.
To see her from the distance ….and then to see her coming near .
To be with her …to separate and then to reunite .
Those that live together might have been lucky ; but those that
Don’t are equally fortuitous . They get to experience the delight of reunion.
Steer II :
Sometimes when you are with her ; you don’t feel so good . It’s a weird feeling ; it gets me lost. I try analyze it ….and then I feel the fear seeping in . It is the blanch of being alone again. Of not being able to walk by her side again. Of the wait ; before I see her again.
When I first saw her , I was afraid to talk to her.
When I first talked to her, I was afraid to like her.
When I first liked her , I was afraid to love her.
Now that I love her ….Im afraid to lose her.
Steer III : Sven
"Dream of me", she said as she hung up the phone
"Dream only of me my love, and me alone"
And later that night, when his body hit the bed,
Visions of her beauty danced through his head
His first dream of her was in Paris, along the Champs Elyesses
Dancing with the night, playing hide-and-seek with the day
The beauty of her face reflected in his eyes
Never before had he felt so happy, never before had he felt so alive
His next dream of her was paradise, it looked like Belize
There they drank Pina Coladas and lived a life of ease
The beauty of her body reflected in the sun
It was then that he knew in his heart that she was the only one
His last dream of her was the best of the three
It was a vision of the one thing that he hoped someday would be
The warmth of her body next to him, reflected in candlelight
He longed for it to be like this, each and every night
He rose from his dream in the middle of the night
Stretching out his arms and rubbing the sleep from his sight
And as he moved slowly from his bed
He stopped, and noticed on his chest, her head
No comments:
Post a Comment