Let Us Watch the Flowers Grow

October 7, 2006
2:57 AM

I see a girl. And she looks so fine. She looks well. I smile as my eyes hit her sight. I wish that she would not catch my stare. But somehow, I desire the otherwise.

As every footsteps heard from the floor makes deafening echoes, her hair slowly hit her innocent-looking face. She combs them with her soft fingers, while I express my desire to hold them to myself.

Then she glanced at me. It was the longest split-second in my life. The look in her eyes reminded me of the angels I see in my dreams. I never thought that angels could be real. That split-second was enough to make me thank the higher being that I exist.

I still stand where I am standing. Time does not exist as of the moment. And panic is just another five-letter word that crosses my mind each time oxygen enters my lungs. But I still hold my ground. And time still does not exist.

She now walks towards the direction where I am positioned. She walks slowly. I think I can write a song and sing it to her. Or I can just miss the last train and collapse on the floor.

She is coming near. She stops in front of me. She looks at me from feet to eyes, as if scrutinizing every inch of me. She touches my face. Her hands were cold. Though I am colder. But her red lips makes everything warm for it goes with a small smile.

Her other hand held mine. I did the same. The lights dimmed. The echoes ran away. The people around us faded out. It was just me and her.

She pulled me towards her. My stunned feet were reluctant to move. But they did anyway. One slightly stumbled upon the other. I am waiting for the blue sky.

Her eyes slowly closed. Mine did as well. I can hear the tic-tock of the wrist-watch loosely wrapped around my wrist. Then I felt something soft touching my lips. I felt safe. So safe that I can stay that way, on that moment, forever.

She is kissing me.

I am kissing her.

It is heaven.

This is an implicit comparison of what I feel whenever I am with my wichan.