Purple strings scattered about, silhouettes obfuscated by the falling snow, a white blanket with black polka dots, standing between you and I.
But your face glistens like tears from the heavens, an Emeraude in a sea of ashes; magnificent in its color and vitreousness, green and shining of life. Light reflects within your inner walls, and like sunlight infiltrating a dark forest, projects through the falling snow. You’ve helped its trees grow, and brought hope back to a once hopeless land.
The purple strings are now a bridge calling my name. I reach out my hand to touch one string. The whole bridge shakes, about to collapse. I freeze, as vulnerable as a scaffold in the face of a raging storm. But your kind eyes melt the frost off my heart, and I suddenly melt to the ground. I run through the snow like liquid silver, seeping through the strings, seeping through the ashes. I start to boil as I get closer to that green, pellucid star. I expect it to flee, but it remains and glistens still. I sensually engirdle it with my heat and fluidity. It shows no resistance.
The earth shakes beneath us as we become one. Eruption after another, I solidify, encompassing you. My sultriness evaporates as it touches your cool surface. Our atoms bond as we fall through the cracks, the bond getting stronger as we fall further down. The black hole gradually turns purple. We are swiftly caught in a net. The purple strings that were once scattered about, are now guards to an unbreakable masterpiece; a product of love and affection, preserved from the world, The Emeraude in silver shall forever live in peace.
[April- June 2010]