Passion of Words

There are many people who will judge me on these next words, but they will soon exist. Whether they like it or not.
I am surrounded by young people, striving and hunting for love. Someone to take care of them, someone to cuddle, someone to share the special little moments. My heart has fallen for the same trap; wishing for someone to come so strongly, that I cannot see. Now that there is no one to look for I realize my hearts true desire. What I miss, truly and sincerely miss, is to honestly tell someone with all of my heart the simple three words; I love you. A voice, merely a whisper. Air, streaming from the deeps of my lounges, eyes finding eyes, looking from the heart of my soul. The openness, the hope, the fear and the thrill. I want it.

For someone to understand this profound longing there is a need to listen. Pay attention to the story of common love.

Heart bursting out as a shadow leans over the building. Frozen damp clings to the thin window, forming glorious shapes. Circles twirling around each other, playing games, teasing, fooling. Nowhere to go, they change to rivers. Every inch of the glass was decorated by the moving atoms. Through the storm of ice he could see her, crossing the street with small jumps as if the cars might pop up any second. As she moves closer, her eyes swirl around, gazing upon the people. On the way to the door their eyes meet. A little tilt with her head and her smile is almost diagonal. To this day it amuses him how she manages to dazzle him with those little wonders. The body in the cold walks towards the frozen glass, eyes fixed on him. There could have been a million people passing her in the meantime, he wouldn’t know. They were the only people on Earth, separated by a thin window. Their breaths didn’t combine. Their hands didn’t touch, their lips didn’t speak for themselves. There was no need for those simple gestures. He found a grin on his face while he melted the words “Come” on the glass. A teasing look, top to bottom and up again, made his hair rise. She knew how to get a man around her slim finger.
Three long minutes passed. His hand was a part of the glass by now, covering the encouraging letters. She came up from behind, cold hands appeared under his shirt.  Caught by surprise as always he lost the grip of the window and placed the frozen hand on the shivering, beautiful face. They were filled with her cheek as the impossibly gorgeous smile spread. The other found its way around her waist and harbored on her back, pressing her into his chest. Her hands had long her fingers into his hair, and forced his lips to hers. Warmth spread from inside them, from every living cell registering their connection. The bodies moved, synchronized, together. As he dropped her on the couch their lips were ripped apart, redeeming their longing. In deep desperation for more he dived after her pressing his lips next to her air. His panting blew warm, soft air as he murmured the sacred words. A slight moan escaped her mouth as she lifted closer to him,  limiting the distance between their flesh. Quickly she turned around, leaving him on the bottom. Eagerly she swooped  down, pretending to go for a passionate kiss. As his lips opened to welcome her she stopped, looking up at him, smiled and repeated the same three words. I love you.



The Moment

There are many things in life that are more valuable than a stock of money. The tiny details noticed by the open mind, the senseless conversations shared between equal souls, the pause in a song, the irrelevant things that can be the whole island to Miranda’s world. Seconds spent in a book store, crowded by travelling people, working, thinking, hurrying, and amongst them there is you. Deep inside a novel recently discovered. Calm music surrounds you from nowhere, everywhere. Swirling around in a constant orbit, soothingly embedded in the story told between the words. Curled together in a little corner you sit, books covering the little body on the floor. High in the ceiling, long against the walls, rising on the tables, the floors are filled with books unread, ready to tell their story. “Feed on me, I’ve got a nice little tale to share”, they shout in a lulling voice, beaming alongside your thoughts. There is too much to read, too much to discover. Book after book fall upon you, trapping you in a circle of knowledge. Time leaves, and there is nothing that can hinder you. Curled together in a little corner you sit, books covering the little body on the floor. The books speak, and you are listening.


What I Want

A laptop and a bag I can have it in over my shoulder.
Then I can walk for miles with my camera around my neck, the computer on my shoulder and a little wallet in the right pocket. I shall walk with the stunning music I found on 8Tracks and dream. Walk on roads of fantasy and look upon this world with my glasses of amazement. Every store I see I will see. Every person I will meet.

I want to walk and find a tiny coffee shop.

Then I can sit and write. Find the words that left me for my carrier. Smells of new-made coffee, mixed with the plants perfume from the window ceiling, the old wooden walls speak to me through my nose and tell tales I know no words to retell.I want to think in a place where I can be true.
Then my inner thoughts will be revealed to myself and I can know who I am. Ideas buried under the high pressure of expectations of failure, logic, realism. Images washed away with the soap of foretold future. Believes that one cannot do what no one else has done. No one can truly believe in the fairy tales.

I want to live in my head.
Only then can I complete my dreams.

Inspired by: