Whenever your name pops up in conversation I slowly find myself losing it.
***
We are in the middle of a dry Sahara desert. I spray you with water, since the day has not treated us so kind. The sun is shining just for you and me, it seems. A twinkle in my eye reveals more than my purest of intention coming together in the sub-layers of my conscious mind. Carefully, I lit a match and threw it in your direction.
“Dance, sucker, dance!” I pranced.
A wave of relief and an overwhelming surge of empowerment has won me over. I am so pleased!! I swear I could hear my heart beat as loud as your bare feet was pounding the ground, as the fire lit you up like a piece of paper. Your moans could not be heard. The sound of your skin crisping up, and your plea for help seemed to be muted beneath my happiness.
We are in the middle of a dry Sahara desert. Never in a million years would you have guessed it to be gasoline. But not all fluids are our best friend, even if we pray so hard. I beam as you wriggle till your last breath, presuming that was your best and last dance you’ll ever get to do.
I fail to distinguish 20 reasons why I should feel this parade of feelings towards you. But thank you for inspiring me. So I dedicate this entry to you, the person of my dreams.
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