The Insides

Take all that I have known Lord and break it into rudimental pieces and scatter them into oceans lying there on extraterrestrial universes where yonder lies. I am at loss of wits and courage to confess my feelings for this mortal being on whom our encounter has yet been reunited. Not that she sees it that way, but this spiritual pun of a coincidence baffles me scary.

I know my insides want to possess hope of hopes.  That lingers dry as though she cares of me as little as it can be on measures exponential. At least how I treasure this space between us. All I have ever done is adore her on glances far,  and smiles stolen between the cracks of her perfection. I know I can never come close enough to see her splendor clearly on a personal level as much as I want this dream to be a reality.

Be it infatuation of the young or crushes of the defiled minds of youth, I claim not to be clustered in those classes. Cause I think my emotions as pure as rare rubies and gems pressed and refined with time. My care for her has always stood the test of time, hoping secretly she misses me, somehow, somewhere, unexemplified.

A hand full of poems that rhyme and vast more free verses I wrote physically and mentally of how I envision her in my mind. Ok, this was years back, yes, it may not count, but they were as real as real can be. I adored her then as much as I adore her now. A figment of inspiration, I think she is. A hope one yearns for when in despair. The despair in this case being, lost hopes of ever finding the one. Cliche it sounds, huh!

The truth be told, I just want to reconcile my insides from ever doubting I wasted a good opportunity to be with a good woman. A virtuous woman I say. Her whole aura screams gentleness, echoes sirens of humanity restored. Ok, that was slightly exaggerated. But, still, a virtuous woman she is. I don’t know, if I ever had a chance with her to begin with.

Hers is black Beauty to the fullest
Hers is black Beauty to the fullest

On seeing her, her beautiful insides reflected radiantly. The beauty that lies only skin deep bounced buoyantly on her dark skin complexion. Black beauty on its fullest, set aside that of black stallions with their silkiest backs and manes. I could paint a Mona Lisa reworks of her.

Parts of my inside know she likes me not, or at least she doesn’t see me in that kind of light. We are both of generations apart, and she is as pretty as one in her prime teens. Her eyes, ooh her eyes, an abyss sucking you in; to see the paradise of the insides. Her smile exudes mysteries, the kind that molds character. The one only people in her inside circles get to know.

There’s so much I want to know about her, but the time nor the place will never be geographically possible to allow. Not even my strong will, can push this more to something it’s not. It’s basic, she will only be nice cause she doesn’t want to hurt me, and she will be nice, cause she’s being prudent. Prudence goes a long way in not burning bridges cause you never know when you will need them.

So it’s hopeless really, chasing after the wind. But, that doesn’t mean you don’t fathom its speed. I like her, solely cause I thought and somehow, still think, I shared a brief connection with her. It was a chemical reaction of two atoms that can never bond because of the mere laws that govern the chemistry. Laws that serve no good.

She has an atomic reaction of her own with another element. A cation one could say. I wish I had more charge to displace him just to have a spot in the lime light, and I hope, time was the catalyst to foster this dreams that burn so low.

Maybe in these parallel dimension of universes that lie in our milky way, I’ll get a chance to be with her. Maybe in all those universes, she’s mine to behold, and we delight in such sweet bliss, the heavens sit and envy in disbelief.

But, in this world, we wait, for the wedding bells to ring, as she walks down the aisle to be Mrs. Him. While my insides will blaze up in flames and the fumes choke my hopes of ever seeing the light of day.

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