The flash-flicker-twist of the candle flame casts dancing shadows on your face. Your eyes reflect the sparkle of the light. An empty china tea cup sits on the table beside your notebook. In a voice dripping with passion but shaking with fear, you begin to read.
I close my eyes and let my mind drift into your words. Midnight masquerades and clove cigarettes, smoky rooms. The words dance from our lips and wrap me in their security.
The price to hear all of this is your life. Once you hear her spoken word, you will long for more. Her words filling papers will make you thirsty; always thirsty and never satisfied.
I clutch my cup of red tea as she reads. The tears run down my cheeks and fall soft and heavy into the tea cup. I am not sad, but happy in a very strange way, more than happy; something that cannot be explained.
She stops reading and turns to me. "Rose?" she says. I look up into her eyes, they too are tear-filled. "Rose… I... I…, Rose… I love… you."
Nothing is said now, nothing needs to be. She knows. We both know.
Our lips touch together, whispering secrets. Time seems to spin around us, but we are caught in a moment. The world moves on without us. We are stuck in our meeting moment, and for now, the world can wait.
The kiss is simple. How do you show a love so complex with something so simple? What can I show her to let her know what she means to me? How do I tell her that my world revolves around her, that my thoughts are filled by her? How do you even start to put words to a passion like this?
As we kiss, the notebook seems to be filling its pages with stories of us, of love and passion.
Alone I am insecure, but with her I have a confidence that blocks out the hurt left behind.
Call it romance if you like, tell us that it is just a phase we are going through. Say what you like, you don't understand. You never will.
Laugh if you like, but you will stop when you find that love has passed you over, that you are alone in your misery. Your hatred has consumed you. Your unwillingness to see has left you blinded to the things you wish to see. Your senses are gone, you can no longer feel. Your emotions have died. All that is left is a hollow shell.
We will walk past your empty shell. We will not weep for you, for you did not rejoice for us.
We have found love.