“Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she’s half crazy
But that’s why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you’ve always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind.”
The proposal was silent, quiet, the only sounds that echoed were of the wind passing by, her hairs flowing like an untamed wave, which sweeps across the oceans, and finally crashes to the shore, where she can no more hold on to the pain of travelling, she needs a harbour.
It was a beautiful night, moon was playing with the clouds, blowing them away and then covering it’s accord. Silently it was drifting pass, that moment, the one moment which I would remember all life, half dreaming, half alive.
The words were jumbled, the eyes were speaking, begging, take me with you, they came straight from the heart, those violets from the black deep eyes. I could not speak a word, half of the heavy hangover, half of the heavier moment of meaningless exchange of words, the eyes talked a lot. They were speaking of a dream that the maniacs dream, the vivid colours of half dreaded past and the uncertain future.
“I have promises to keep” as if I ever asked them to break, as if I ever wanted a thing, as if I ever thought, as if I ever said a word. I knew it was the last time ever when we would talk and not merely exchange words, I wanted to keep the memory and the minute details of every intercept.
The river was full, the lights that could be seen in the distance were that of the stars that reflected in the water, slight ripples of breeze asked the water to dance, the water foolishly danced, taking each step from the wind’s chords. Such beauty, learning to love from nature. What did the water ask back, did it ask for the wind to sing all along, so that it could dance, than be scorched by the mundane sunshine of that July ? The moon laughed peeping again from it’s corridor, first at the wind, then at us.
Ah it’s the same old story, mankind never does proceed, I looked at it straight in the eyes, it the heart I saw the moon’s sadness, a lonely lady sitting grinding wheat, tired, alone on the surface of the moon. Oh moon, what agony does wrap you ? Shining by the sun’s light, gone when it comes in the sky, do you not love the sun ? Do you not love the clouds you so jovially play around with ? The moon was silent, sad, the lady went on grinding, and the moon again went back to it’s corridor of clouds, heavy at heart.
I was thinking back in time, and then ahead, and in none could I figure her, I never had wished to, just that the moment was so magnificent, one could feel like losing everything for just then.
I had no plans, no thoughts, no ways, plain words, jumbled with the eye’s talking, I asked nothing, said will leave before the night gets any more beautiful for only as much pain I could bear I shall feel the pleasure.
I left, alone, walking back, thinking nothing but looking at the ruins of the kingdom, so gloriously which stood, once when time wanted it to flourish, when the wind wanted the water to dance. I could have wished for nothing more, wanted no more, only the picture of the kingdom I carry, glance across it when I feel happy, thinking, wish you are happier.