literature

Surrealistic Muse

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rociobelindamendez's avatar
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Literature Text

I stand in the cold, alone, on a dark winters night, the thoughts of you overflowing over and under me. I am numb except for the aching; tormenting my body, the need to see you again. It's been months of distraction, deception, reflection and imagination.

Beat.

My mind, a desolate open book, shivering in the wind, pages turning rapidly, suddenly it stops on an intensely beautiful image captioned us.

Feeling your presence all around my being. The energy and connection buzzing is almost palpable. The need, overwhelming. You are close.

Beat.

I close my eyes lightly and breath you in, I hold out my hand in the darkness to feel for you, only to find you holding yours out to meet mine. In that instant, reality wilts away and euphoria replaces any sentiment that existed prior to that. Together we are, together we belong, together we will stay… but just for tonight, just for a moment, just for the winter, just for all the forevers left to come. I yearn... you.

Beat.

My poison, my passion, my obsession, my infectious, luscious, luminous muse. My unique, my only, my one, my moment, my love.

You answer my questions with your existence, you reveal the truths with your eyes, you satisfy my needs with your presence.

Do not leave, not even for a second, I cannot stand to miss one bit, I live to see every expression in your face, I want to notice every thought that passes through your mind, I want to know you more than you can ever know yourself. You were born to be contemplated by me and me alone.
Your intensity is addictive, a sedative, attractive, calmative, illuminative and mystic. Be mine. Be my person.

Beat.

Your mind, an accompanied open book, trembling, the harsh air blowing the pages in different directions, suddenly it stops as instantaneously as it began, onto a gorgeous image captioned winter nights in paradise.

We communicate solely using our thoughts and emotions, we know exactly what we are saying, without opening our mouths. The words from our pages raise and hover above both books, dancing in the wind, crossing over each other, forming new words; our words, our moments… abruptly we are on the same page.

Shudder.

An expression of yours tells a million words, too much to articulate, too much to explain, too much to do anything with. Enough to feel, enough to feed and nourish my being. I am satisfied by your essence, presence, beautiful, yet destructive evanescence.

Beat.

Come closer to me, be one with me, kiss me, feel me, love me indefinitely, uniquely; like only you will ever be able to do.

Wait for me in the dark, leave notes behind, change things slightly, so I know you have been where I sleep, so I know you have been thinking of me, so I know it hasn't all been an illusion created by my desire, and need for you.

Appear out of nowhere …please, and make my lips part into a smile. I long for our time together, I long for the summers to freeze up into a moment where me and you cannot be touched, by anyone other than ourselves. There we can stay, in an adrenaline fuelled moment, with one another, before the sun melts away the icy pleasure we reside in; our own world, our ephemeral reality.  


Beat....


Beat....


Beat....

Where are you now, are you feeling it too?
I wrote this for a woman after she told me her story that she had trouble articulating... As soon as she started to speak..I had the words bubbling around and was anxious to write it out. Let me know what you think.
© 2013 - 2024 rociobelindamendez
Comments3
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Irixian's avatar
Excellent. I, personally, enjoyed wondering whether to read the "beat..." lines as the beating of a heart of the slow flap of a bird's wings. I liked it better as a bird :)

This was a great read. Your command of language is fantastic :)