Tuesday, July 21, 2009

"Dreaming in the Middle of NY"


Dressed in matching summer outfits, "Love Wear," designed by the one and only "Cupid," we were all alone on a private pasture, hidden in a field of flowers made of many colors, like a pack of skittles. A picnic meant only for two, a couple of winged guards above, kept an eagle eye making sure to keep all rats and critters aside. The sun played our favorite song on an antique violin once used by a street performer, who sold it to buy the ring that he would one day place upon the finger of his soul mate.

The wind sang background with perfect melody, like Christmas Carolers. Happy to see the heart's in our eyes and too emotional to hold it all in the clouds cried light tears of joy. I hand fed her fresh fruit from the region of Chile, purposely making a mess on her lips so that I could clean them with a kiss. I wet her tongue with mine quenching her thirst for romance. She laid in my arms and I rocked her with warm passion; she is my baby.

The sun packed it's bags and headed home, while the moon clocked in and prepared a sweet tune on a piano once played by soldier, who kept himself alive during man's war by writing his wife love letters promising to never die on her. The fire flies danced across the sky, like fireworks and the stars played catch in the galaxy, like kids at a local park. This moment is the parents of perfect, "Better Than," and can get no better unless God is into tracing. I glued my hands and placed my prayers in the prayer box of the almighty. Tossed my wishes into the air and it skipped them across the atmosphere, like rocks on the bellies of sleeping lakes, and poof!! like magic the future I always pictured appeared. Too real to be true, I pinched myself more than twice which now explains how I woke up in so much pain.
Photo Model: Raeven Western