Le coup de foudre

 

She dwells in a world of evolvement, mine is wrapped in a blanket of her sweet essence. As the whole world was patiently waiting for their own basement, I picked my spot in the drab corner with lucent hopes and hurried clumsiness. Her world was rotating around the sane elliptical pathways, whereas my horizon was about to end. Tension broke the ice, with my heart in a way to the most glorious pleasure since the last one. Another day gone, and I survived successfully from the chaos of love, attachment and the near embarrassing experiences of life inspite of the fact that it feels that I'll trip over those every now and then.

The thought over which I have the highest possibility of tripping over and is up in the air lurks between 'she's mine' and 'she'll be mine'. A quick glance at the heart and it bursts out. Pretty decent spilt second it takes to roll over the frenzy that the glossy bubble eyes provide. There might not be cuteness overloaded, but there is chaos prospering whenever she smiles.

The phrase 'she's mine' resembles the appropriate downhaul till today. For humble observers, if addressed incorrectly, it is a thorn in foot or else a nail in coffin. Listen to the hash volume of locked on curls as it diffuses the fragrance of her sweetest shampoo. Maybe, one time you'll resist to lose control to fall over and again, on the nasty spring of lips covered in pinkish red as autumn. Such a beautiful angel she is.

A beautiful fluffy cheek earning sunshine praise from her viewers. Amazingly, how quick these little moments of togetherness (expressions coupled with gestures) blossoms from a life to 'The Life'. A season of high norms to solely confine myself in the world of hers, is the contentment of Zen. Only when I will know to let her go, or fasten my belts to touch the home she called 'hope'.

I wonder who she chooses, the hope or a love to remember? My whole world will become hers when she's mine. A stiff racing through my heart when she'll be calling my name. There goes her hand shaking and my hand keeps holding her all winter. At times I don't want to see her, yet I feel lonely without her. So even if, even if I don't know about her, I am glad that atleast she accepted me.

There goes my heart skipping a beat, when I saw her smiling. I'm not concerned with her choice much, rather I'm more aware of her existence. My unnoticed prayers will always be with her, whenever she fails and ends up scratching her knees or when her fingers twist with the locks of her hair showing she's embarrassed. She's a beautiful soul that needs to be preserved not exploited irrationally; whether she chooses hope or a love to remember.

Picture courtesy: Pinterest