She That I Saw In a Dream

I

How to describe…

her eyes?

Like broken rock with lava seeping through

the cracks.

No. That's not

it.

Like indigo

rock,

scaly and

cracked-

so bright it hurts

to look at.

And the cracks shine orange like pulsating

veins-

neon bursts of

color-

all of it too

bright-

so overpowering that I can almost

taste it.

Can't you?

That

sour

bitter

taste?

That sweet

sour

bitter

flavor

lying on your

tongue,

making it yearn

for more?

Funny.

I think I could drink in

her eyes-

drink in the brightness of the molten

rock-

of the inhuman glimmer of the indigo

pools.

II

How to describe…

her face?

I can't

I simply

cannot.

But I shall

try.

Very smooth, but oh, that sounds wrong

already.

'Smooth' tastes such a

lie.

Her skin is like a marble

stone,

softened by the

stream-

but also tender and

supple-

like a rose petal to the

touch.

It even shines like a rose on the

floor

of a

dewy

sunlight-dappled

forest.

With a warm fuzzy

glow-

a misty sheen-

a magisterial

grace-

a glow that dares the sun with its

bronze

and brazen

pureness.

And a mouth so small and

impish,

you will die to see it

smile.

And teeth so white and flashing when she

laughs.

And hair so liquidly

rippling-

so gently caressing the curves of her angelic

face.

III

How to describe…

her laugh?

It lights up the whole

room-

as if it could rain golden

honey

from her

mouth.

Or is it just the laugh

itself

breaking into tiny, shining pieces

of joy

and littering

the ground

with her

innocence?

I can feel it

now-

echoing-

chiming-

vibrating

through the

fog-

clearing it

away-

revealing the

sun

again.