She wonders if he thinks of her still. Perhaps during the most insignificant moments? She remembers him the best in her dreams, they bring back the feeling of him only present now that she is so far away. Her dreams leave her with a feeling of comfort, they bring back the warmth that seeped out from the pockets of his skin- under his arms, between his thighs. She keeps a small list under the keyboard in her office cubicle, her messy hand recording all the insignificant moments she has loved him with all of her heart, simple seconds where his presence has silently pattered through her mind like a mouse scurrying through a still house. The memories come to her at unexpected moments-fragments which at the time were seemingly insignificant but that her mind took reason to tuck away nonetheless. She only remembers these moments in snapshots, they have no beginning middle or end. She wondered if memories sometimes spontaneously sprung into his mind uninvited, as well. Perhaps when he was buying a pineapple, or melting butter in the middle of a baked potato he remembered her how she used to be- cheeks luminous, smile toothy and pristine white. She wonders if he thinks of her still. She wonders if he thinks of her at all.
*
The sun sat above them, sending down its heat in waves, bathing the grain in a perfect golden hue. He watched her standing in the middle of the field, the sun catching her orange springy curls and creating a halo of fire around her head. Luminous. Her teeth were the colour of the clouds, skin as golden as the grain around her. He loved how the stripy white and red shirt clung to the curves of her body as she swayed in the field, arms outstretched, head cocked towards the sky. He moved his camera up towards his left eye wanting to catch her in this moment, unaware. He paused; it was in these moments that he found himself caught up in her beauty, when she was unconscious to everything around her. He was drawn to the fact that she was completely oblivious to her own beauty, how if she titled her head towards the sun her curls radiated all the colours autumn had to offer, how the way she breathed in perfect fluid motions revealed the peacefulness of her soul. She saw him staring at her with his camera perched just below eye level and her body automatically readjusted itself into a pose, her hand placing itself neatly on her hip, leg jutting out to the side. He had lost the moment, the simple breath of unmistakable natural beauty that he once thought only exotic flowers or the abnormal curl of a tree branch could offer him. He looked through the viewfinder, hand on the shutter button, pausing as he realized that no one would ever be able to give him any more than what she did just by standing in front of him. This was why every action he took was in favour of her, she was something he could not afford to lose. He choreographed his words to please her, restrained every muscle in his body so as not to pull her too forcefully towards him when she was walking by his side. He would and could never seem to let himself show her how much he loved her and this is what eventually drove them so far apart; how ironic it was that one could love another too much to express it.
No comments:
Post a Comment