shades of moonlight

                         her world of shadows

She was dressed in all white but a silver striking sheen going through her spleen from her neck till her hip. She had confident back and a thin waist. Her bulges shivered upon the ecstasy of violin in the background. She was all erect ready to prance with him in a loose shirt and comfy trousers.  They waltz together under a shed with paintings around and a wooden table often used to have fruits , pasta, wine and milk. Loads of chocolate and cakes. But now was no time for eating. It was their time together. her and his. He was abstract – like those immense visions of watery sheets she had seen while in meditations.

Her blue hot denims had those dessert roughs and surfy greys. Red peeped out of the fabric whites of her bosom. She was aroused – aroused upon those gentle tones that were falling in her ears. And there were add ons too. A river’s sound in the background. Or was it a sea – merging into her salty senses and tangerine spirit. She wanted to gulf it all – the thrill and excitement of it. and there were mountains too – right in the shadows of her smiles. The garden shed sure was her very own space – out in some other country-  in some other skin and body.

The colors of her visions had strange insights. She had the power to flow and be lost from every eye-sight. She was earth and she was the river. He became rock at times. At times he gave her shivers.  But the story had not just he and she. There were spirits involved. The spirits of the cosmos. Those eyes full of wisdom in some mountain darkness. those destiny’s energies all set to harness. Those spirits were many – like one in every particle. And she knew the voice of all. those that pretended to be dead. And those that pretended in every stall. It was an act that was happening. But spirits had life - Each of them - In various permutations and combinations.

Deep under the sea she had talked with all – those rocks that were alive, those particles that were dead high on stalls. But here on stage, she had to support them. Them – that were acting amidst them who were unaware that they were acting.

But here there were no pretentions. She was in her own dream world. In her world of shadows – shadows that were real.  out on stage she was a moon but he was the sun. He emitted. She reflected. He never reflected. She never omitted. But here in her world she had another moon. she was the moonlight – out shining upon those cliffs, mingling with numerous waves, peeping through those historical monuments, trinkling right upon the face of a girl lost in her moonlight diva.  Maybe he was better in her world of shadows.

    - mystical wanderer