I’m terribly afraid to be in contact with you again. I fear everything that I am will not satisfy you. And who can blame me? Everything about you is to be percieved from the heart of an artist. The colors blending just enough to capture everything that you are. Landscaping your portrait to an array of natural colors. The shapes align to form the essence of perfection, a material formation of flesh and bones. The lines carrying me away to imagination, where beauty belongs to fairytale lands.
Sometimes I think to ask you if you’ve ever stood on top of a mountain, watched over the formation of the lands and see how they complement each other. Or if you’ve gazed at the stars to see how they communicate. They almost breathe into each other as they glimmer and share their stories, stories they have gathered from the beginning of time. Maybe you’ve seen the perfection of a flower? The way they traverse the world and absorb anything and everything around them, as the ground absorbs energy from the flesh.
Well, if you’ve ever had the privilege to experience one of these things, you will know what it is like to be in your presence. To gaze upon your magnificence and to have the light of your eyes bless the world with everything that you are.
I pray that you understand my intention. I describe your stare as if it were the authority of the gods made manifest in your eyes, but this is not the case. They are tender and compassionate and they only seek that which is good. Your pupils, a black hole that would entrench my soul. The green, the grass I would spend my time stargazing from when your eyes are closed, for your closed eyelids would hold the stars willing captives.
And this is not all I worship of you. I worship every step you leave behind in the soil. The marks of where you have been I have follow as a faithful servant would follow his master. Flowers grow on these paths and they blossom and bloom, all of them whispering about the mother of the earth.
And I feel meek when I experience your orbit.
One day I wish to conquer you. To find you on your knees, planting the seeds of your offspring. I will then follow your path, being careful not to disturb the beauty of your footsteps that you so carelessly leave behind. I will follow in your orbit, walking around you until I stand in front of you. I will kneel, observing your hands as you tend to your garden, strands of hair covering that beautiful portrait. Softly, I’ll touch your chin, and guide your eyes to meet mine. Although the touch will be soft, it shall also be assertive, for I need to be held captive by your eyes.
And when our eyes meet, your grassy eyes will see the blue sky for the first time. No more will you only have the night to watch over you, but you will find the trance of my blue to take you into submissive custody. And the mother of the earth shall then know day, and I shall know night.