“I love this place…” Your voice is gentle, almost grateful for what surrounds us.
You’re leaning against the bridge’s railing. Your look is lost in the lights reflecting on the water, moved by colorful ripples. Blues, reds, yellows, greens float and flow slowly, glittering in your brown eyes.
Voices and laughs, lost in the night, give profoundness to the moment but concede us an idea of intimacy.
I see the dream you’re lost in, desiring to kiss you, hoping to grasp even just a pinch of the powerful life hiding inside you.
That powerful life I so desperately need, that powerful life feeling like the last chance to slip out of all the darkness around me.
Our fingers tangle and then rest on your leg as we drive in the night. Headlights struggle to pierce the thick fog embracing us. It wants to steal the warmth that we have inside us, but it’s useless. We’re strong together, warmer than sunlight, brighter than a star, more powerful than the very Big Bang.
You look at me, I look at you, and your smile tells me, “I love you.”
Even though I can’t see anything through the fog, I can see everything now.
And all I see is you.
This story also appeared on Medium.