Constitutional of the Heart VI.

The morning woke stormy as did I. Dark shades were swirling in both of us, and our mood was devastating. Cold, unruly winds were blowing down on the banks of the Danube. And in my soul a firestorm of emotions was raging. Perhaps that is why we calmed down later as we have extinguished each other’s wrathful energies.

But I can’t tell what was trying to burst forth from the murky and silty depths of my soul. It troubled and scourged savage waves in my spirit. But before it could reach the surface, it dissipated. Only whitely sparkling irksome bubbles it left behind, but these burst as well.

Today I went to get the books I had ordered. With these the number of unread volumes, or rather the towers of them rose with a couple of storeys. Unfortunately, I’m really behind with a book. Not because it is difficult to read, although it does contain some boring parts, but because it is interesting.

It is something like a special drink that has been aged for long. You don’t gulp it down like a glass of water. You savour it, enjoying every impression it gives. Even its bite; as the real pleasures follow then: the flavours. The taste buds in such case wander in the emerald summer enclosed in the sweetness of fruits or in the rainbow autumn shackled in smokiness.

Then you sip again to caress your tongue with the rare nectar. Yet the experience isn’t continuous, it doesn’t last forever. It’s like when we want to greedily and eagerly bite our love’s red, throbbing lips. Yet we cannot do that or we would hurt our love and we can’t hold our lips on the other’s forever either.

But for desire it is like oil to fire. It wants more, as soon as possible, to consume as much happiness as possible. But then, like fire, desire can go out as well. That’s why one must always have to leave some small, orange coloured warming embers. As small and faint ones like the freckles on your nose…