James Stibilj

Hollie Beer this would have been a car song back in the day!

He sat in a soft mauve luxuriant chair across from the bed where she lay slumbering in so that he could see her breasts heavenly heave with every single breath
Her lips barely agape so that the silent vapid blonde hairs that adorned them, which for reasons unbeknownst to him she tried to conceal, gave off a glimpse of the glistening words that she would speak had he woken her by any other means then the feeling of his own body weighing down his side of their soft goose down cotton comforter that she would only be able to sleep under, while he found it unfathomable to languish in the smooth yet steady stifling humid linens like the weather and the waters of the bay he grew up on as a child. Yet it was there, in the liquid twilight, laying there next to her, she dreamed so soundly and peacefully, quietly, and he, Never going to sleep to dream, was always insistent on her head in the clouds before waging war against his own eyes, he thought never to speak with the feverish nature of the highly regarded and coveted green gold that he could summon only for HER from the severed garden to lullaby her, but to simply lay by her side, with their bodies close together, entwined, their breathing in time together, their hearts beating the time. It was in that instant incident when she raised her hand to her forehead to brush away a strange stray hair from the catch of her brow or perhaps her eyes he thought
Never before had he considered to look at his beloved and the belief that the children of hers would be veterans of her beauty and wisdom and frailty.
And the fragrance she emitted from the beginning to next day and the next day until the last star of time fades away like the Stargazer lilies and Hyacinths he had given her religiously to have her experience what the color lilac smells like just so that she could come to know the same aromatic aura she had given to me like a tiny little gift and how I adore that fragrant meadow girl
But that one part sunset
Coming home from parties and full of laughter and wine when we ignored the dancing drunken guests and sat and talked and drank each other in like glasses full of the smiling moon, she raised her hand..
Delicately,
Exquisitely,
And in the brush of her long brown hair, her sweetness and delightful dignity made the sad sunset pass and she made me know what it meant to be real in love with her soft shape of shelter and my Princess of Tomorrow.
The grand gesture gilded now by an infamous interruption went unnoticed by the birds, church bells and the voices of the city that sought to hear him ramble man. She sat adjacent to him, ankles crossed and arms folded gradually guarding the ubiquitous distance from the other half of the table. He never knew that this season in hell would hold him in for the eternity between them. The lethargy and pain of the sullen sickness his heart felt wasn't unfounded or unfamiliar. He'd been here before. His thoughts in time together with hers when they lay on wet, stained cool, smooth, wicked sheets that they had shared way back when when they were young. They could have lied to each other back then yet didn't and now after the vindictive voices attack again and the efforts trying to ignore the warning, they cried upward as if under seat or upside down in the great heavy beasts of rain in monsoons. The lines were written to convey the spree of messages they need not utter for the dregs of expressions existence. Then, for those people who have died for heaven sake or nirvana or him or her, he saw clearly, and spoke the truth. "In times like this we are hot raving witnesses to our dreams, yesterday, today and tonight and we will dance together madly, carefully cautiously like whirling angels in clouds of beautiful belief all will be well." And they remained silent, reaching and reflecting their hands holding and kept time tightly together in those sweet desperate hours.

her is so beautiful Lily Allen

12:33

Love apples...yum...

Daj mi tylko jeden