Heartwaves

If I were to garner
all the freshness and warmth
from around the sea with my hands full,
I wonder if it could match yours,
your spark, your candour, your benevolence.
Running along the big tides with damp feet, with bare hands like a bird flapping its wings the first time.
Then I’d rest a while upon my ankles sunken in beach water, the scars on my feet rekindled like a tiny glint in charred furniture, then again, the seemingly agitated waters diminishing the sands and bumping into our mortal toes with a soothing buzz.

I see the the heartwaves in your eyes
perfectly tinged with emotions
wanting to splash on the cliff hard like the seawaters do
as if to cast a mighty spell on this windy atmosphere, with me drenched in seawater, dipped in water, as though I have always belonged there.
Unscathed. Infallible. Not to be accounted for.

My fingers running over yours sleek cheeks
With wind swaying your hair gracefully
making you steal my attention even before the magical aura of the sea in front of me.
Your presence feels like a sip of steamy coffee in a cold winter morning with scanty sunshine but exuberance hard to narrate.
You don’t glitter ’cause you’re as real as a turbulent storm looming with a ghastly face but smitten by the equally daunting wind from the other way.
Yet, vibrant enough to entice me to rejoice this moment of togetherness even more.

Your slightly golden lock of hair blocking my eyesight laying on your rosey cheeks,
how delicately you pass down my sound arguments with a withering smile and insurmountable jubilation
whilst the impending storm makes its way to the shore
Sprouting out of the lingering aura of the cool breeze ;

Ushering in the mosaic of unannounced memories tucked in our exchange of glances
And for a moment, there’s a defeaning silence,
Abruptly ending the spell that hooked me onto you ; bringing me back to my lost senses
For it’s time for you to leave back to the forbidden land you belong to.
I do not intend to let this pretty moment slip by in a blur – so inconsequential that it’ll pass into my oblivion by the next sunshine caresses my skin only to remember you as a bygone memory.

I wonder if that’s what normal people do.

— Adrita Shib.