scorpions in the dust

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 11, 2017

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Submitted: April 11, 2017

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Time, it needs time to win back your love again- I will be there, I will be there.

Love, only love can bring back your love someday- I will be there.”

 

Her radiant hazelnut colored hair shimmered like a lost diamond in the dark, as she whipped back towards me. It’s been years since I can recall the last time I had an instant feeling of love fresh in the air- consuming the environment within me. Leaves, sprouting throughout the massive row of trees around us fell gradually. Their washed up orangey feel reflected off her glasses, causing Emily to smile and look towards me. A moment of tense feelings oozing with nostalgia and ecstatic wonderment grew through my body- trying to get a hold of what was happening in this moment. Grasping the strawberry flavored gum-stained realm underneath our feet, creating a delicate scene of controlled chaos.

Soul-nurturing would be the one word to describe the love of my life, although he stands all dumbfounded- enjoying the scenery between our stance. Stances that remark the ultimate confrontation of comrades who have consistently grown towards each other’s unique personalities and expressive emotions. Eye contact is not my first choice of social skills during confrontations, but this one needed to be seen. No, EXPERIENCED. Experienced through the lenses of someone who was waited year after year for this in this exact location.The very same garden infested park, filled with all kinds of ripe veggies rooting from the ground, where I met James about a hard set of years ago. His eyes full of purity fill up my once torn up heart of misery with an overwhelming heat that leads me to taking out the antique Chinese fan he lended me during our first date. The date that would set the course of our love fruiting from the vines in our souls- connecting like constellations, creating a boastful mass of stardust floating against the rules of nature into the cosmos.

Nor words or emotions describe the rumbling these neon butterflies, raging to be free in the wild wild world, in my stomach- when she caught up to me for the first time in forever. Forever can be whatever one may make it out to be,but this was the definition of an eternal wait holding back two individual desperate with the thirst to embrace each other. Once again. Fuck, how I longed for the rainy aroma of her frizzy, but fluffy like hair or her voice. Her voice. A voice only meant for an angel sent from the glorious bouncy clouds of above, to deliver the good deeds of today- gracing the sometimes indifferent ears of mankind. Emily has one as delicious as a sprinkled covered chocolate ice cream, infused with melting fudge swimming throughout it. Anything, a sliver of her presence, would have made up the aching and brutal mutilation of our love that was caused by the transparent illusions of our respective families. Emily- the one who fought hell by standing on the edge of our love, remaining faithful to our love.

James. He holds out one hand, veiny from pumping weights like a determined boxer, to pull me closer- creating an small tear drop to grace my right cheek rosy from the wind. Wind that at first blew off the leaves from the trees, later to stand still and set everything in a singular wrecked motion. I could not help but sob profusely in the middle of the day, at the seconds and minutes wasted these years without even getting a glimpse of each other. I hear his bloody heart pumping in and out of his chest, also shaking from this realization.

My eyes shut in standard mode, only focusing on her eyes to identify if we were talking the language. We were no longer children. The age of being in highschool has been washed away by the swaying of broken beer bottles and the curvaceous hips of drained strippers losing their innocence for their livelihood. But this will not stop Emily and I from changing ourselves to stop the corruption hidden in the depths of societal views of what a couple should and should not do.

Man’s inclination to violence and perversive fascination with the sweaty sensations of sex has blinded him from the art of love. The art of genuinely loving someone without the use of penetration- only enlightening one another with honesty and integrity. Whatever it will take us to do, James and I must not go back to our old destructive ways, that ruin our relationship.

They began to look closely at their pupils, as the sounds of the leaves morphed into an external silence,as they cried in an embrace- holding on to this reunion of lost lovers in an age of withering love.

“If we'd go again, all the way from the start, I would try to change the things that killed our love!

Yes, I've hurt your pride, and I know what you've been through.

You should give me a chance, this can't be the end.

I’m still in love with you.”


© Copyright 2017 Bruce Symph. All rights reserved.

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