"Listen." she says.
"No, just listen."
We sit down, sharing in the cool damp feeling of the mossy log welcoming our tired legs after a long day's hike. The moon dances in the lake in front of us. Its dance can be seen, reflected in the two pools of lush beauty seated on her face. Her beauty-pools gaze at me in quiet anticipation.
"I'm not hearing anything," I humbly reply.
I go to apologize (though not entirely what there was to apologize for), but I'm interrupted as she walks down to the lake. Her sillhouette against the moonlight on the lake seems to hover off the ground slightly as she lays down on the bed of the lake's bank.
I get up. I stop half way. I sit down.
"She's just so... different," I think, sinking again into the log's worn comfort. A moment of peace passes, I feel a subtle breeze skim across my skin.
"Drake!" she calls out. A cage of butterflies is released from next to my heart, each butterfly making a beeline for the walls of my stomach. I can barely hear her voice, yet it shatters my ears.
I manage to stammer out some audible response, though she would probably keep talking whether I responded or not.
"Are you listening?" she asks.
Out of complete instinct, I walk down to the lake, the tranquil smell of fresh water coursing around me.
She looks up at me. She smiles. And boy, what a smile she has.
My descent is ridden with the crunch of fresh fall leaves, breaking under my trembling hands as I guide myself down to the bank of the lake. Am I sitting too close to her? Am I too far? What message is this sending? I'm paranoid. I'm not worth her time. I should leave. She can't stand me. Why am I still here?
She's laying down on her back, paying no notice to me as she grabs at fleeting fireflies in the air, like a baby to its mobile.
To me, gravity has gone sideways. Here I am, sitting beside a human delight; her childlike curiosity in stark contrast to her elegant beauty. I feel that if I don't hold on to the ground, I will fall into her, showering her with affection. But what is holding me down? Why do I resist? What makes me so rigid?
I look down. My hand is running through her hair, spread out like roots along the lake's bank. Her upside down face showcases two lips in a crinkle-cut smile. Her hands lie still, folded over the drawstrings of her worn old coat. The moon's light from the sky and the water illuminates half of her face, placing a mask of darkness on the other.
"You should start listening soon." she says.
To what? Why must she be so confusing? Is she like this to everyone? And why do I find her vague poetic questions so... alluring?
The gravity towards her fades into an attraction, an urge. A pull. My mind is telling me, no, screaming at me relentlessly to give in, and for once in my life to just be free. My brain's drill-sergeant voice is filling my ears, sending searing sensations all over my apprehension filled body.
After dealing with my brain's screaming for far too long, I knew what to do. I listened.
I listened to the sound of the choruses of bugs in the forest around us, speaking in a unison hum; the white noise of nature. I listened to my feet walking and the crunch of the leaves below my descending hands. I listened to the gentle croak of a frog, soothing my fears of not knowing what I feared. I listened to her breathing, and my breathing, and us breathing together, eventually breathing in complete unison. I listened to stars colliding between us, planets moving around us, and twinkling galaxies revolving within us. I listened to my mind, calculating which part of my conciousness made me take such a bold move. But I listened to my soul telling my mind to shut up and just enjoy the beaauty in front of me. I listened to our kisses, bouncing off the walls of each others hearts, flying somewhere out into the blanket of the cool night sky.
I listened to her listen to me. And she listened to herself. And I listened to her listening to herself.
We finally let go of each other. And we remained on the ground, completely still, dancing to the music of ourselves, each other, and the Universe.
Created: Aug 22, 2012Johncoyne Document Media