Into Your Eyes

What do her eyes wish to tell me that her lips hold back?

What is it that makes her breath dance with her pulse?

My fingertips gently paint unseen lines along her blushing cheek.

Her hair washes across mine as her smile plays hide and seek.

Deep, is the ocean that hides behind her eyes, she wants me to see.

For her pupils dilate to show more, when she is in waltz, with me.

sexy-eyes-new

Image source: www.eyecandi.co.za

Sing A Song, Sing Along.

He sat on his bed, legs hanging out, a toe on each foot touching the floor. He watched the dust particles float in the beams of the midday sun pouring into his room through the gaps between the curtains. He looked to his left and saw his shades. He picked them up and got up to leave but plopped back into bed, with his pillow filling the space on either side of his head.

He stared up at the ceiling and then closed his eyes and breathed out.

“Hey, singer!”, she had teased, the previous afternoon. 

“Hey, song.”, he had smiled back. ‘That was good’, he had thought to himself and she had smiled with a raised eyebrow, in agreement. 

He opened his eyes and his pupils shrunk in response to the light in his room. He had to see her again.

He opened his eyes for real this time and fought back, against the darkness that was engulfing him. From above his face, a doctor shone a torchlight into his eyes and his pupils shrunk again. He wasn’t going anywhere, any time soon.

The motorcycle tester was back on the track a week later and when he returned to the garage after a test run, he parked the bike, took off his helmet and kissed it. He then looked over to her. She smiled so bravely for him but he was not blind, just a little bald for now. He walked over to her and kissed her forehead.

“Hey again, song.”, he smiled.

“Hey yourself, singer.”, she blushed.

biker piggyback

 

Courtesy: moto0cross.tumblr.com

Why is The Grim Reaper so grim?

Ever wondered if maybe Death had a lover once?

The Grim Reaper, Death, The Angel of Death.. Before he became so grim, I wonder if he had a lady love whom he loved dearly.

Perhaps they were to be married or probably already were and then he lost her.

Maybe her life simply ceased to exist one day and it could no longer be inside her.

It was stuck, with nowhere to go and perhaps he moved the heavens and the earth to bring it back inside her.

But she was not the same. She was not the woman he loved, but merely a shell of whom she once was.

She was no longer really alive. She was simply…non living. 

He could no longer watch her suffer like that and wanted to let her go.

So maybe he tied a Scythe atop a high pole on one end. He cut his chest open and took out his now-frozen heart and used it as the key that bound the ends of the rope that held the Scythe in place.

I can picture him, holding her close to him, against his bleeding chest, in a vain attempt at giving her cold body some warmth in the chillness of the pre-dawn air.

A single tear peeked out of his eye just in time to catch the first ray of the rising sun so it may glint off of it and reach his icy heart.

As the sun rose, his heart melted and he could have sworn he saw a faint smile flash in his love’s lips. Perhaps it was just the reflection of his own faint smile that he caught a glimpse of, in her unfocused eyes before his heart melted enough to free the Scythe from its bonds.

And then, with one, rapidly accelerating movement, the Scythe perhaps, found it kind enough to separate their heads together.

He had known that she could never leave him but it had been her time to go. However, she just could not leave her love and go alone and so he had sealed his fate off and maybe decided to accompany her to the riverbed for one last, eternal goodbye, before she crossed over to the other side.

Perhaps this angered the ways of nature and he was cursed with a skeletal form and The Touch of Death so he may never find love again; a flowing, dark robe so he may never be noticed again; and the same Scythe he used to take his life, defying order.

The Grim Reaper was perhaps then cursed to guide the newly dead souls, as he guided his long lost love once. Cursed to repeat and to ironically, re-live that fateful day for all eternity.

Perhaps that is why, The Grim Reaper is, in fact, so grim. However, I still fancy a hopeful thought. I still think, that beneath that dark hood, shrouded in pitch black enigma is a smiling face for it was all worth it for him, in the end.

Image

Photo: Original