I love it when it starts to darken during the day because there’s a heavy leaden cloud hanging overhead, filled with thunder. The branches reach northward under the force of the warm wind, and the grass trembles at my feet. The sky shimmers with all shades of silver, purple, and blue. Only the whispers of frightened plants are heard, ready to withstand the impact of transparent drops. The air quivers and rings with tension, ready to explode into an endless celestial waterfall. The heavens crack, and a stream of warm moisture pours onto the earth, swirling, soaking my clothes and me… carrying me into another dimension. I glide along the mirrored asphalt, weaving through the snake-like patterns of lamplight and disappearing into the earth between the roots of two sap-filled blades of grass.
I love waking up in the morning, tossing aside the snow-white sunbeam-pierced sheets, and running barefoot onto the balcony, entwined with ivy. I spread my arms wide, gaze at the misty edge of the youthful morning horizon, gather the night dew in my palm and splash it on my face, smile and squint like a cat at the emerging day, take a sip of mango juice and feel how it cools my body warmed up during the night. I stretch my hands towards the sun and don’t notice how they turn into rays, disappearing into one of the prominences.
I love entering warm water at night. When the moon turns the magical crystal-clear rippling path on the wave’s surface silver, when following the hand smoothly descending into the water, two hundred twenty-two tiny silver bubbles trail behind. When beneath my feet is an endless abyss, plunging deep into another galaxy, when all the creatures that once visited my dreams come alive. When the touch of drops in the warm sea currents reminds me of the morning kiss of my beloved.
I love turning into air and, chasing the wind, pressing down on the gas pedal fiercely, not thinking about anything, forgetting the concept of time and place. When only movement remains, continuous, swift. The movement of a point, the movement of an electron, the movement of light, the movement of sound. I love opening the window and catching the wind by the tail, feeling the silk of my own hair, caressing my neck and shoulders, trembling on my cheeks. I love getting lost in this movement and dissolving into it, leaving only my hand on the wheel and my foot on the gas pedal.
I love your touch. I love dreaming about it. I love feeling it. It starts with your gaze. In your breath, touching my soul. I love hearing the whisper of your breath on my neck… Catching the embrace of your eyes, suddenly feeling your fingers, entwining in my hair, a faint pleasant tingling on the skin of my head. And tender silky fingers that descend down my shoulders, chest, lower, turning this movement into infinity, continuing my body into another universe.
I love kissing your eyes and absorbing the intoxicating vanilla and cinnamon of your eyebrows, face, shoulders again and again with the tips of my fingers. I love getting lost in your chest, allowing my cheek to become an extension of your collarbone. I love carrying you in my palms like a newborn drop, shimmering with a rainbow. I love holding you as the most precious thing I have, and indeed it is. Tenderly, fragilely, gently, precious, dear, unearthly.
Infinitely beloved.
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