The yellowish purple spread south throughout the sky as the Sun was docking with the high hill.
The yellowish purple spread south throughout the sky as the Sun was docking with the high hill. The storks gently flying right through the colors and the dark clouds aligned, waiting up to burst.
And on the terrace she was, wearing a bluish-white top extending to her knees, her wavy hairs to her back and some stuck on her shoulders & then the gentle flip, biting her kissable red lips she wonders if she would ever look as beautiful as the sunset. In her eyes theres hope, that the blind boy says; Youre.
She didnt know my eyes were on her. No, I wasnt looking at the dying sun, but her. Her perkiness was endearing. I dont know how many minutes passed by when suddenly I saw a sprinkle on her face. I was so cored into her that everything went bleared and I even didnt feel the drops hitting me. She went down the floor and so did I.
I was peeking from the window, she lives across the street. I was sure she`d come on the balcony and likewise, she did. Soon, the falling of rain was deafening.
She stretches her hand to hold the drops of rain. The smile on her face as she was doing, artistic. She was genuinely happy as if the rain will never stop. I cant put into words how beautiful she looked. I got heart erection. She was so soft, for every drop of rain I feared itd make her fragile.
She puts both hands on the railing and looks up inclined as her eyes close. The raindrops now clink one by one on her face, it appeared so viscous, slowly moving all the way to her lips tracing a path for others to follow. She opens her eyes and it locks with mine. I looked down, a reflex. After some moment when I look up, her eyes are still on me.
She humored, “Gravity?”
Damn. I couldn`t speak. I giggled, running my hand through my hair.
The quiet, long lapse of silence and just for a moment everything was right. I murmured, “How beautiful a part of our species could be.” She kept smiling and wasn`t bothered by the attention she was getting. She knew, perhaps, she is beautiful than the sunset.
As she went inside I came back into my room and threw myself on the bed and replayed everything in my head that happened in the last twenty minutes. It was beautiful. Maybe quarantine isn`t going to be that difficult. I always hoped for a rain, a rain lasting long enough to fill the empty pores inside me, the restructuring from the bottom in order for me to feel alive again. Is she the rain?
