Gaze

I swept the locks of your hair with my eyes, followed the curves and dips in a sort of trance. You standing amongst the lonely on the quay of the Bagara pier. You nestled between the pillars outstretching the wharf, cluttered within the remnants of conversations. I watched you just as the sun began to sink beneath the calm waves, you kicked at the shattered particles of a broken seashell. It seemed as though your eyes were magnetically drawn to every face but mine. You with the crimson trimmings of a sweet honey brown, scanning the scenery. And I just stood there gazing, lingering within the moment. You brushed away the drops of sweat that formed at the lining of your brow and cocked your head to the right. At that moment your eyes fell upon two little girls running along the edge of the water; their eyes lit up as they picked up on speed trailing through the tall mossy plain.
I loved hearing the polite expression in your voice as you were approached by the various characters. They were syndicators aching for one exchange of verbal contact, "how are you? "oh I am fine, my dear. How are you?" "O' please go on." "You look pleasant this evening." You glanced at each passing face with an eager and awkward smile. With the evening sky sweeping up the colors of the rainbow. I adjusted my toes inside the straps of my sandals and tugged at my blouse before maintaining a broad stance; my eyes played with the sea far off in the distance. Behind you the waves tackled one another before parting ways and the birds of the sea landed atop the mighty rocks at the base. You swooned in the breeze brought forth from evening shadows. And I just stood there entranced longing for you to rest your eyes even for just a moment upon mine.
Now what do they call this, this meeting between two people for just a millisecond of an evening at a party between friends? And why do we hold still to that one moment for the rest of our lives, building our relationships upon it? I admit how I am accustomed to you, for if I could I would drown in your gaze, never to return to the shallow ends of my mediocre life. You have possessed a fire in me, a calling of my wild nature, frisky and hungry for your broad stature hanging against the railing. But you're too sweet, like a picturesque moment, a Monet oil painting hanging at the back of my mind. I can admire you for purely existing and brushing into my vicinity and hold still, at last hold still your image, your smile, the way you pick at the seashells before you, the torn edges of your styrofoam cup. I can trace you like the wings of a dove, but she has since flown, as you will. And I, never entering your mind, not once, a fate worst than death, for with death I am complete and do not associate with the living. I rise above all mortals including you, free of hate, desire, passion. But life cannot be as good as death, for if it were the poets would not praise it, the romantics would not give wholly too it.
I collectively shatter the thoughts which take place, my mind weary and drifting, instead I should admire the seasons in your eyes, the winter in your lips, the autumn in your cheeks, the spring in your hair, the summer, brushed into your smile. So warm and inviting I want to smile too, but forget how. I fail to remember the last time I lived one lifetime, but within your gaze I have lived at least a dozen.
The tide pulls in crashing into my thoughts as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the sky. All around people growing tired begin to buzz about locating those few they've forgotten to see. You never stopped smiling and you reach out your hand for a firm yet gentle shake, patting their backs. In this passing of time I've dreamt of you I've observed you from afar, but do I dare go to you?! Do I push through the liquid lining of our gravitational distance with which you are my far off muse? Where you and I can at last exchange the common glance followed by the polite verbalization of this evening's events. I wouldn't dear revel in my anguish of hopeless run-on words. Or trying to find the right words to hold longer to your gaze. I can look down at my feet and forget all of the fundamentals a baby learns when taking their first step. Or forget the freewill as if my feet are shackled to the pier and weighed down by apprehensiveness.
No I find it better yet to mingle with you, to get lost in poetic, ingenious words that so knocks you senseless. We will forever tangle our likes and dislikes in the 10 minutes of conversation. But as if by some found glory, some miracle, your eyes waiver in the distance this glance I've so longed for. Your lips curve into a bright smile and in all my life I have not, till now, truly, felt the pangs of cupid's arrows. My heart dies on impact of your warm watery glance, it is a silent one, yet all the same a most meaningful loving one. As if we were connected, I found myself smiling frozen in your eyes, as you begin to walk in my direction. My heart begins to flutter and my breathing weighs down, like someone just punched me in the gut.
"Hey sweetheart!" A voice sounds behind me, as you walk past my life and into the arms of another. My body aches at the sight, as if all the weight of my life began to slowly crumble. I can hear their voice scrape at the base of my ear; laughing nonchalantly. My eyes blurred at the sight of your face, your smile, a million tons of needles etched at the lining of my eyes, my fake smile. I stand their once again in a one way run-in on the banks of a misty bridge, going no where. Time seemingly wasting into moments of could-have-beens; you laughing in the corner of my broken heart. How can you give someone so much in a moment and yet receive only a wasted memory? I could have said hello, but the cruel facts of waiting in life relinquished any power in moving.