He parted the tufts of hair that fell all over her face. The hair was soft and still retained some of the wetness of the wash of previous night. Slight ruffling into them made a mild fragrance to slither out and enamor him. He ran his hand though her hair rubbing her head softly.
She lay asleep unaware and lost completely in the bliss of her own closed dreams.
There was a mild hint of a smile, which wasn’t wiped, since its arrival and so it’s still strayed on her lips.
Like the kid frolicking in the puddle. Like the pup rolling in the spilt milk.
The lips parted slightly and arched in a beautiful pout, which made her look very vulnerable and adorable at the same time.
Like a lion cub. Like a new knife.
Its as if one particular moment of the eternity is frozen for a second and that ice pearl is kept and seen glittering in front of the candle, where it again melts and joins back the stream, back to eternity.
She held a slight tinge of amusement on her face, which often was her default reaction while awake. The breath was mild and shallow, so that it didn’t obstruct the sweet flow of the sleep. Rather, its rhythm was more in tune and in line with the sleepy stream. She swallowed and tasted the tongue often in the sleep as if someone was feeding her the lilting sweet frothy cream over the milk in the dreams.
One of the cheeks that pressed onto the pillow had the impressions of the stitches and folding of it embossed hard onto the skin (which hurts a little when turned the other way).
And a slight dampness always lingered around the corner of the mouth that touched the pillow.
There were lots of baby rabbits jumping over the fences on the slight pinkish blanket, which kept ruffling in the fan breeze. That gave life to those animals making them jump again and again.
She slept with such gay abandon that, nothing in the world or infact out of the world included, would even dare to think of disturbing her.
The fan, the breath, the bed light, the blanket ruffle and infact everything in the room attuned themselves to be in sync with her, as if her sleep is the prime most epitome and concern of their lives.
With Him included.
Early mornings were her archenemy and nemesis. Her Satan.
Rather the holy water of that beautiful devil in disguise!
She lay asleep unaware and lost completely in the bliss of her own closed dreams.
There was a mild hint of a smile, which wasn’t wiped, since its arrival and so it’s still strayed on her lips.
Like the kid frolicking in the puddle. Like the pup rolling in the spilt milk.
The lips parted slightly and arched in a beautiful pout, which made her look very vulnerable and adorable at the same time.
Like a lion cub. Like a new knife.
Its as if one particular moment of the eternity is frozen for a second and that ice pearl is kept and seen glittering in front of the candle, where it again melts and joins back the stream, back to eternity.
She held a slight tinge of amusement on her face, which often was her default reaction while awake. The breath was mild and shallow, so that it didn’t obstruct the sweet flow of the sleep. Rather, its rhythm was more in tune and in line with the sleepy stream. She swallowed and tasted the tongue often in the sleep as if someone was feeding her the lilting sweet frothy cream over the milk in the dreams.
One of the cheeks that pressed onto the pillow had the impressions of the stitches and folding of it embossed hard onto the skin (which hurts a little when turned the other way).
And a slight dampness always lingered around the corner of the mouth that touched the pillow.
There were lots of baby rabbits jumping over the fences on the slight pinkish blanket, which kept ruffling in the fan breeze. That gave life to those animals making them jump again and again.
She slept with such gay abandon that, nothing in the world or infact out of the world included, would even dare to think of disturbing her.
The fan, the breath, the bed light, the blanket ruffle and infact everything in the room attuned themselves to be in sync with her, as if her sleep is the prime most epitome and concern of their lives.
With Him included.
Early mornings were her archenemy and nemesis. Her Satan.
Rather the holy water of that beautiful devil in disguise!
No comments:
Post a Comment