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IMYS - Episode 7
(Kissing under a mango tree)
The wind carries with it many secrets; yours and mine included. If only the rulers of the earth could pay some mind to its whispers, their hunger for knowledge would have gained plenty, including about the magic and the blurred lines of our story. Because it was present for most of it, from the cloud nines to the dark hues. It witnessed the rarity of our passion in its nakedness. It gave us life and we gave it our lives. We even raced against it this one time, remember? On my friend's motorbike when I was taking you on a ride to show off the bountiful pieces of my life to you? I was speeding against it with your hands wrapped around me and your head leaned against my back. I recall it, the wind, carrying your vibrations to my ear, claiming that I was your "hero" upon the rush. And it was also there when we reached the destination — under the mango tree.
There are times that the wind and the days rob us from memory, and there are some of those memories that choose us evermore. That particular moment in time eternally lives within my core, and its light lasts. The kisses were heavenly, and the touches were angel's kisses upon our skins. There was no room for breath but a world for feeding off each other's gladness. We were like kids on a magical carousel, seeing nothing past the joyfulness of the ride we were spelled under. The leaves gave us shade, and the bark shared its comfort. It is like we were fated to be there and do what we did. It remains to be the best day of my life, second only to the childhood memory of my father taking our family on a cruise. So to say, in my head today, I am anchored on the lee of your shore, missing the taste of your sweet lips under a mango tree.
© Ommie
The wind carries with it many secrets; yours and mine included. If only the rulers of the earth could pay some mind to its whispers, their hunger for knowledge would have gained plenty, including about the magic and the blurred lines of our story. Because it was present for most of it, from the cloud nines to the dark hues. It witnessed the rarity of our passion in its nakedness. It gave us life and we gave it our lives. We even raced against it this one time, remember? On my friend's motorbike when I was taking you on a ride to show off the bountiful pieces of my life to you? I was speeding against it with your hands wrapped around me and your head leaned against my back. I recall it, the wind, carrying your vibrations to my ear, claiming that I was your "hero" upon the rush. And it was also there when we reached the destination — under the mango tree.
There are times that the wind and the days rob us from memory, and there are some of those memories that choose us evermore. That particular moment in time eternally lives within my core, and its light lasts. The kisses were heavenly, and the touches were angel's kisses upon our skins. There was no room for breath but a world for feeding off each other's gladness. We were like kids on a magical carousel, seeing nothing past the joyfulness of the ride we were spelled under. The leaves gave us shade, and the bark shared its comfort. It is like we were fated to be there and do what we did. It remains to be the best day of my life, second only to the childhood memory of my father taking our family on a cruise. So to say, in my head today, I am anchored on the lee of your shore, missing the taste of your sweet lips under a mango tree.
© Ommie
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