A half smile upon her lips, she sighs, the house is empty.
Could this ever work? A shaded corner of the room sends shivers up her spine, the sole purpose is to lighten the day, the tears fill her eyes as fresh lemonade in a crystal glass.
She admired the person that told her that he never involved himself with anyone as a young man, he did not see the purpose, the relationships were destined to an end anyway.
Is it that we do not see time? Or do we not want to realize our own demise?
Young, and beautiful in others eyes, she is on the break of becoming confident, perhaps even finding closure to this leap taken.
The desire not for false love stories, but the personal conquest, a meaning, an understanding.
Salvation of the soul? Or just pure wondering?
Passing by couples embraced, watching innocent laughs and giggles, gestures of fingers tangled in one and other, these small yet trivial happenings quench the soul.
Could the finding be now? Or should patience continue as nature takes its course?
The poetic shadow upon a vase, to paint, to draw, to dance, perhaps romantic fantasy.
A drawer lays unopened, memories and the typical half smile, half frown surely to appear.
Happiness equaling to love?
Or lost equaling to love?
Once happiness is found could the love be lost?
Yet, when we dance, it is like stars are the freckles of the skies.
Getting to know thy own self can be the most beautiful journey, the slight misunderstanding and disbelief that indeed no longer a child, you mold your soul.
These are the moments important, the sweet irony of how she does not realize these moments will never come again, eyes toward the imagery outside, she could be admiring the scenery, or simply in another world.
The half smile on her face says it all, perhaps content, perhaps discovery, living the moment, the perfection flows.
She is slowly falling out of loss, and sliding into her own skin.
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