Philosophy: Romance, A River of Tones
And her fingers fired into mine, heart hovering with humility. Her palms, an ointment, and her breath, a fragment of her fragrant vehement. Gazing with glory, her eyes picking at the corners of my garments, her sight wondered with lust and wandered into me, for what could be more honorary. Her thoughts tumbled down into tyranny as her feelings tempted her attempt at mercy. For I respected her restraint, knowing all the better that a blessing is always as fragile as it’s faint. Yet, her scent pulled me into an epiphany of empathy. Her honesty, a brief breeze of brevity that held all my insecurities, knowing that she trusted the charity that I mistook for chastity. If creativity were a soul, she’d be more than a mate, the sole identity of checkmate — the one that drives you towards divinity.
And her lips lapped around me with laughter, her giggles the hallmark for a happily ever after. With a desire dazed with dignity and a gravitas glazed with gullibility, she only aspired for my ingenuity — for a dice that only ever roles demise, her spice reminded me of paradise.
I now knew that romance was more than a journey, it was the moment of melody which rocks us with rhapsody.
Riding waves of wisdom, her words whispered a warcry of wet rivers through me, flooding me with royal remedy. Triumphant and twirling, her tongue tangled me to my toes, as I sipped for silence under her shadows. In this moment, I found a new meaning to myself, my privacy, I knew I wasn’t alone.
A Rhyme Never Too Shy
Hearts humming to humanity, we learned of the possibility that only existed within the fractions of infinity. For every finite moment has equal infinite components. And it is through those soul-searching slits do we sit through lifetimes and legacies.
For what is intimacy if not the very twinkles in our eyes. The slight light we express when hugged by honesty. That hand in the darkness, desperate to hold on to us, just as much as we hope to holster the humility to carry that newfound humanity.
That is the power within vulnerability. Allowing yourself to feel free to express, not in exchange for a chance to impress but to undress among the unrest. Yet, you need to know how to hold on too. To be able to view without digressing, you need to fill your own void with her voice. It will be full of worry and it will vary, but you cannot be wary, yet beware the skin you wear — for it will wear you down without the right ware.
What We Don’t Know Allows Us to Rest
The more we learn, the less we know. But just when does the quest for some request reach its recess? How do we know if it’s time to end this fairytale and begin our folktale. For our worlds to become words, our deaths to become diaries, and our competitions to become contributions.
Logic loses its luster, ethics loses its ember, yet emotions are then all we can muster. Under their guidance do we find a guardian grounded in brilliance. They lead us on a path that helps us see the radiance. And what is closer, warmer to us than the embrace of remembrance. A belonging for which we lose ourselves — our hearts now a fissure — only to find out that it wasn’t a waste but an unburdening erasure, as every rocket lets go before reaching its home base.
Our intellect is only based on the knowledge that is a must, but our intuition selects from what we trust. Yet our instinct has been bred from all that came before. We are the conception of inceptions that instigated the inaugurations that lead to us today. In our present, their future, and tomorrow’s past, do we tie a message that can everlast.
There is One for You
All our actions find reactions. Time is tamed by none and so we have no choice but to play her game on her terms, but she’s as equal as life’s intricacies. You don’t know why something happened which led to something else. All you know is that you did what you did and got what you got. But that is the extent of you, fueled by the intent of you.
But what you don’t realize is that there is an equal number of ‘you’s which also factor in their intent which overcomes your extent. That same infinity felt by you two spirals into a golden globe of activities for which there are attractions and repulsions innate to you, yet an inmate to us. We are connected by the life and love around us, but the intimacy lies in the romance between you and her. The answer you seek is with her, so never try to do it all alone as you’ll fall prone to your own drone.
Surpassing reality and credibility, there is a magic that will mumble when she listens to your heartbeat, hand in hand, towards a river that will rain with joy and rattle with coy, only us sipping the most of it, as there is no color to its tone and no limit that is us.
Always To Late, Never To Early, Sometimes Lately
For time is only a tone,
For which we atone in this flesh prone.
Sometimes together and others alone.
But forever do we wish we were thrown,
In this cyclone with our own clone.
It becomes a journey,
When we venture as a pair.
But other times it feels like an injury,
For which we will always bear repair.
But once you learn to see,
To which your eyes were long witness,
Will you know how to be,
The very culprit to her business.
And your heart's melody,
Weaves into the fabric of time,
Molding a memory as smooth as thyme,
Forever a tone for the rivers that rhyme.
