Because sometimes you opt to destroy what you could have, could be and live, if you only and simply gave into that new chance, one with paler skin and darker hair, an unexpected sneeze from the exquisite fate, flawlessly hidden behind those semi-shut doors inhibiting your mind’s aeration. One who may or may not have always been there, but somehow she choose to stand here, oozing an ease that gets you there, along, in this moment.
She is handing you something, a suggestion, a way to fall, again, for the one you couldn’t have, now under a different form, a voice that goes brilliantly with the nocturne radio tunes, nails the colour of illuminated ocean, watery tone you once loved in her eyes, bring memories and tales of unrequited feelings you throw out the window. An unusually punctual look blinking solely towards your warm bearded cheeks, and body that flees and walks on through the moist forested area surrounding the parking lot in where you both stand, when these midnight embraces estrange you. Hugs and kisses reminding you of the old ones, the ones you couldn’t give. You’ve been in love with them ever since you can recall the illusory sensation of having another belong to you.
The caustic blueness she’d flood you with, her cyan eyes, they’re lost and this time your certainty of such strident truth melts a sad notion into a kind acknowledgement, even liberating as you’re tired, silently trailing the narrow softness of another’s arms, sensing the surprisingly lack of doubt your fingers show, for they need this more than you. Her smile is different, so is the curvature defining her waistline or the silkiness of her silver collared thin neck. She is not her but may she be her, if you dare to see her as she craves to be perceived?
Will you let her be her and swallow that old person you once were, for her?