Ocean II

"Do not use the power button, take the shots with this"

    I was lost in the labyrinth of emotions. I was standing behind her but out of the world. Didn't know how possible that was until twas that time. My mind had desecrated its place, eloped through the windows of my heart, traversed my consciousness and now treading on the phantasmagoria of love. She sure would be my everything, if she allow me. I'm under her spell. Can't help myself. Not willing to help myself. Antithesis of dilemma.
      Standing behind her, we were about to take shots with her phone. I really wanted it, but, I wanted her more. The first shot was taken.

      "Smile na"

     She wanted me to smile, but my heart was frowning. Frowning to the fact that I could not help myself at that moment. Frowning that I could not have what I needed at the moment. Standing behind her, I wanted to hold her broad waist - figure eight -, rest my head on her shoulder, rubberneck at the camera, as the reflection of whom I sought, ask her to take as many shots as possible, till geriatrics meets us there, we both old at the same spot, and babies circumambienting us. But shy me! I couldn't do nought, couldn't do owt, couldn't let out feelings through my actions. I thought I was courageous, but no, I lied, my courage could not jerk me to giving her a hug at arrival. Even now, we were departing for a while, yet, courage jilted me the second time.
      
       "Shall we go"

       No! No! No! No! No! Was what I wanted to continue screaming forever. How could I want to leave at that time, oh, No! No! No! How could I be willing to let go of the pleasure my heart is breathing through? How could I ever wanted to go home when my heart is no longer mine? How could I want to leave my heart without staying a while longer, sharing the last period we would ever share again in that red-letter geographic mise en scène?
        
       "Yes"

       I lied. I watched her stood by the door of the eatery, she is a bland-kind-of-lady. I was ought to do that, but really, I wasn't myself that day, I couldn't help it. I wouldn't have helped it if I could. Twas a shock: seeing more than what you've expected to see. She was an exxageration of the pictures of hers I've feasted my eyes on. The blue jean skirt  she was clad in was only meant for her. The equanimity permeating, inveilging her limbs kept me in awe of such hauteur. She is my taste actually. A taste that have always made me thirsty. Thirsty deep down in emotions, her love being what can quench the undaunted thirst. Words won't do.
        We walked side by side toward the stretched streets, littered with words I couldn't pronounce to her. Road tilled with actions I couldn't exhibit while with her in the eatery. Oh! What fool could be greater than that? She didn't seem to notice the ocean I was swimming through. Perhaps, she was skating in her thoughts, her beautiful face could not only but hide millions of emotions behind the cute pulchritude. She was the reason reason reasoned reasonably.
        Before now, when we were eating in the eatery, I'd said something to her. She'd looked at me, perhaps she needed to see the authentication on my troubled physiognomy. And then, as her graceful gaze fell like a spell on me, I'd wanted to hold my lips with hers, to feel how soft they were, feel the warmth embedded within the lips, bite it little, taste the emotions encompassing her saliva and stay thus forever. Oh craziest! But I couldn't. I smiled only. Smiled at the casket of my emotions: Her smile.
        
        "Get a bike... Don't worry about me"

        What sort of a lady says that? I'd wondered. She was ought to get on a bike before me, but, she was going to let me get that first. That would be the second time: firstly, she'd opened the door and I'd entered. And now, secondly, she was sacrificing getting on a bike first. Perhaps, she love me, I was not and still not sure. But, I Knew that there was a veiled implication to it.
 
        "No, that's not gentle man enough"

       I'd tackled. But, she insisted. A bike stopped by and I got on. She waved at me and kept her rubberneck on me. I wanted to read one quintillion meanings to her gaze, but what good would that have done? Perhaps, she was saying in her mind, 'I put him to test, he failed', or that was her own way of saying... 'He couldn't even give me a hug before leaving'. My thoughts though.
         I looked at her while on the bike, shooting my lips the way you do when you want to kiss. The bike man didn't know what was happening. Didn't know that his passenger was a dead man in love. I looked back from the bike, it was moving, and she was still standing, looking at me as I left. I looked back the last time, I couldn't see her clearly, but, yet, I saw her eyes, penetrating my heart, infiltrating my emotions.
      I wanted to fly off the bike, return to her, handle her with care, and elope with her forever.  
  
       19:05:24:14:10

Ancestral Pen. Ancestral Form. Ancestral Tale. The Ocean II