Endless Planets
The summer night breezes in from the cold front on the sea.
Whipping the air, flowing under fauna and flora, past her floral dress and into your face. You look up into the pitch black sky and everything starts to shudder and tremble. You look at her there, standing on the beach under palm trees, not sure whats wrong. Her full, moonlit eyes reflect against the black ocean and they stare at you; it is unwithstandable.
And then in a whim its all forgotten
. Caught in the tumult of a foreign land, uncoordinated timing and a precarious mania you throw yourself into a swirling world of drugs and fantasy. Of dirty faces blurring past you, horses and bikes making traffic. Where money is not only everything but is distinguishable and affable only to the terrible endeavor needed to acquire it. You can buy happiness here. Make friends easily. Find a pretty girl for a day or two.
But then you feed yourself lies and the consequences of your inactions.
Like some unattestable god you must become one of them to gain their strength and still preserve yourself. A wretched monster usurping those lesser than you of their only petty craft. But the ghoulish feeling leaves you and then light returns to your retinas. The girl that just passed by looks at you.
Jazz music wafts through the curt alleys that divide the city. Like a delicious honey it sticks on to you, giving you energy and you perk up your ears like a dog who just heard a loud noise. It seems to follow you everywhere you walk, click clack the back of your shoes tick and tack. You walk into a small bar with the smooth jazz at your back.
The place is small and comfy, the bar sits at the back of the confines and the floor is littered with plastic chairs and tables. Palm trees circle the bar and oak wood columns allowed for romantic shadows to blend in with the red lit room. An hour or two of easy drinking pass by, and slowly people drip into the bar. Couples old and young come for the calming ambiance. Groups of young girls come and as you watch them walk into the bar, you notice one of them.
Her hair flowed like the sensual waves of the pacific ocean, light as a dove her hair rose to the strings of the wind and fell to its short breath. Her soft and tanned skin divinely sculpted by some forgotten artisan., Who seemed to carve her out of a dark wood and etched in her beautiful lines that defined her cheeks, nip nose, concise lips and brown billowing eyes that contained a reverent innocence.
You hear her laugh and a gust of nostalgia hits you.
The sound reminds you of something in your childhood that you'd forgotten. Something that was lost to the cruelty of the world. Her words are soft spoken and delicate. Like the lives of her native ancestors whom grace her with such beauty and natural elegance. Time seems to grave you with her presence and all your sinful thoughts and fantasies disappear. For once, you only wish to talk to her. Only wish, to know her.
Her dress followed her body, articulating a young shapely figure. Naturally, she was inclined to the dark spaces of the room as if she was too accustomed to the driveling eyes that convicted her. Your courage was forgotten then. Walking to her you did not act on lust or pride or courage or thought. But a natural inclination like her to the darkness.
There she stood, behind the oak wood pillar with a drink in hand looking into the stretches of the night. Wondering about something you would never know. You were on the other side of the pillar, slowly approaching with the warm summer breeze abreast.
You reach the pillar
She turns towards you
And in between both of us
was only darkness.
Whipping the air, flowing under fauna and flora, past her floral dress and into your face. You look up into the pitch black sky and everything starts to shudder and tremble. You look at her there, standing on the beach under palm trees, not sure whats wrong. Her full, moonlit eyes reflect against the black ocean and they stare at you; it is unwithstandable.
And then in a whim its all forgotten
. Caught in the tumult of a foreign land, uncoordinated timing and a precarious mania you throw yourself into a swirling world of drugs and fantasy. Of dirty faces blurring past you, horses and bikes making traffic. Where money is not only everything but is distinguishable and affable only to the terrible endeavor needed to acquire it. You can buy happiness here. Make friends easily. Find a pretty girl for a day or two.
But then you feed yourself lies and the consequences of your inactions.
Like some unattestable god you must become one of them to gain their strength and still preserve yourself. A wretched monster usurping those lesser than you of their only petty craft. But the ghoulish feeling leaves you and then light returns to your retinas. The girl that just passed by looks at you.
Jazz music wafts through the curt alleys that divide the city. Like a delicious honey it sticks on to you, giving you energy and you perk up your ears like a dog who just heard a loud noise. It seems to follow you everywhere you walk, click clack the back of your shoes tick and tack. You walk into a small bar with the smooth jazz at your back.
The place is small and comfy, the bar sits at the back of the confines and the floor is littered with plastic chairs and tables. Palm trees circle the bar and oak wood columns allowed for romantic shadows to blend in with the red lit room. An hour or two of easy drinking pass by, and slowly people drip into the bar. Couples old and young come for the calming ambiance. Groups of young girls come and as you watch them walk into the bar, you notice one of them.
Her hair flowed like the sensual waves of the pacific ocean, light as a dove her hair rose to the strings of the wind and fell to its short breath. Her soft and tanned skin divinely sculpted by some forgotten artisan., Who seemed to carve her out of a dark wood and etched in her beautiful lines that defined her cheeks, nip nose, concise lips and brown billowing eyes that contained a reverent innocence.
You hear her laugh and a gust of nostalgia hits you.
The sound reminds you of something in your childhood that you'd forgotten. Something that was lost to the cruelty of the world. Her words are soft spoken and delicate. Like the lives of her native ancestors whom grace her with such beauty and natural elegance. Time seems to grave you with her presence and all your sinful thoughts and fantasies disappear. For once, you only wish to talk to her. Only wish, to know her.
Her dress followed her body, articulating a young shapely figure. Naturally, she was inclined to the dark spaces of the room as if she was too accustomed to the driveling eyes that convicted her. Your courage was forgotten then. Walking to her you did not act on lust or pride or courage or thought. But a natural inclination like her to the darkness.
There she stood, behind the oak wood pillar with a drink in hand looking into the stretches of the night. Wondering about something you would never know. You were on the other side of the pillar, slowly approaching with the warm summer breeze abreast.
You reach the pillar
She turns towards you
And in between both of us
was only darkness.
