For Lovers Only

For Lovers Only

Tuesday 27 September 2011

I counted stars..

We lay beside each other, as still as a pond, no breeze in sight. His arms a comforting weight around me, his hot breath stroking the back of my neck.
I touched his baby finger.
"When we're married, we'll be just like this" he said.
I smiled, "Well, I guess we're married then".
We lived a whole lifetime in that moment, we were born, we loved and we died. It was perfect.
And the sun rose later in the morning, not wanting to wake us from our world.

Thursday 22 September 2011

Moments of life..

When you laughed your eyes closed slightly, like you lived in the moment longer than those who saw it. I closed my eyes as well, hoping we could finish off each others thought. The world waited for me when we were together, I used to never be able to keep up.
We met in a library, "You're not supposed to talk in this section" were the first words you said to me.
"Can I read this chapter to you" were mine.
Luckily I was sitting down when I first saw you, walking up and down the isles, touching the edges of all the books you passed as if you were hoping your heart would lead you to the right selection. Your summer dress flowing behind you, an invitation for me to follow.
I never planned what to say, like I had with others, that's what made it perfect, innocence.
"If there is such a thing.."
"Shh"
"If there is such a thing as marriage.."
"Shhh ... and come on" you chuckled grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the readers who had been disturbed.
I wondered why they were agitated, if they wanted to read, the book I was holding was the best read in the world. I didn't quite finish my thought because I knew you had hold of my hand. I breathed in.
"Why did you do that? That's the silent section" you said stepping down the stairs.
You weren't holding my hand anymore, but it was still warm from your touch. I followed.
"It would be the noisy section to a mind reader" I mused.
"And is that what you are?" you stared at me seriously.
"No" I smiled "I'm sorry, I just wanted to read to you".
"Well I can read to myself thank you".  You started walking away.
"I'm sure you can, but the words I'll read to you will sound different coming from my lips than they do from yours" I said.
You stopped. I walked up behind you, your back still turned.

"If there is such a thing as marriage, it takes place long before the ceremony, in a car on the way to the airport, or as a gray bedroom churns with the sound of morning, one lover watching the other, or as two strangers stand together in the rain, no bus in sight, arms weighed down with shopping bags. You don't know then, but later you realise, that was the moment"...

Your back was still turned and you were doing something with your hand, near your face, wiping away a tear perhaps? You stepped around to face me, putting the top on your lipstick and placing it back into your bag. You pressed your lips together, now cherry with colour. Stepping closer again, you took the book out of my hand, cleared your throat and began.

..."And always without words. Language is like looking at a map of somewhere, love is living there and surviving on the land.
You get to a stage where stories don't matter anymore and the stories once told so passionately become a tide that never quite reaches the point of being said. And there is no such thing as fate, but there are no accidents either.
I didn't fall in love with Bruno then, I had always loved him and we were always together. Love is like life, but starts before and continues after, we arrive and depart in the middle".

Silence, even in the noisy section, it seemed.
"And that is what the words sound like coming from my lips" You whispered.
The most intimate moment I had ever shared with anyone and we barely touched.
I'm out of breath.

(Another part of one of my short stories) ^.^

Tuesday 20 September 2011

“Dreamers conquered the world long ago” ~ Simon Van Booy

A great little form of street art....













...the shoe one is my fav.
P.s So what if I'm buying miniature figurines and creating my own lil people art ^.^

Friday 16 September 2011

Stalker...

She’s a girl that wears flowers in her hair when it rains and scarves draped over her shoulders in summer. She would lay down on the ground to relax and say it made her feel closer to the Earth.I watched her from my car, leaning out her bedroom window to see the night time stars and drinking the rain as it fell from the sky in winter. We are perfect together, but she doesn't know me. We think the same thoughts and walk the same steps, but we've never met.
I know her routine and how she runs in the mornings. I know her eyes don't fully open until she sips her coffee, blindly reaching for the cup. I know her heart beats faster when she's waiting outside his office. I know he loves her too. He's looked in her eyes and seen the world, he's put his hands at the base of her back and smelt her hair as they hugged. He can hold her hand without asking and when he goes home, he remembers her touch. His dreams are informed by small realities that I will never know. He knows what it is to hold her.
She visits a bar in the city on Wednesdays and huddles under strangers umbrellas when it pours. I've thought of standing behind her in line, with an umbrella in hand awaiting the heavens kindness, but me, I wouldn't know what to say, if she turned around.
I've made a space for her in my life that will be forever vacant, if we never love. I carry the weight of my feelings with ever step I take, hoping each day that she might notice I'm struggling and lend me her hand, just for the rest of our lives.
But for now, I wait in the shadows thankful for every glimpse I get of her breath falling around the room as she rests and the movement of her chest, up and down, when her heart feels someone is watching.

(This is part of one of my short stories, and a lil pic of myself at my fav Wednesday night bar :)

Sunday 4 September 2011

My Love Affair

I didn't want it to be over, but like the sun hiding behind a cloud, with each turn of the pages I knew I was closer to being in the shadows once more. I drew it out for as long as I could and although I didn't want to finish it, I wanted to get to the end. Walking down a garden path is always somehow better than the secret at the end. Knowing this I took my time to hold the pages the way they wanted to be held, to caress their edges and gaze longingly into the eyes of their words. Each chapter was like a date, a wine and dine with the characters of the story and I always enjoyed the dinner. A slow dance was often included and sometimes they would repeat the song. As the night closed the hours before we would see each other again were painful to consider. So as I drifted off into my night time world, with the book still next to me, all I could hope for was that my dreams would kindly take me down that garden path once more.