She is still on my bed…
“She is still on my bed sleeping, magnificent even delicate, mild even material, the infinite amber of her hair and her exotic skin of a subtly saturated velvet peach contrast with the limpid ivory of the sheets that sensually wrap around her sensitive and gentle figure. As the morning sun invades through the laces swinging in the breeze, it brings refinements of warm colors that in a constant moving light up parts of her dewy freshness.
In the gloom of the room, contemplating her, a lapse of my biography elapses; intense and confusing, without denouement. We sensed this was coming, not from the first second, but in that first hour of our first meeting; her distinct beauty, her wise intelligence, her sensual casual attire… And now she’s here…
And although pleased I am not blessed. She is, no doubt, what I craved for. But … a déjà vu is almost consciously floating. She, a different she from a time forever absent, claims me the same delicacy that long ago is not earning. And thus it disquiet me that she, this real, vital She, will one day conjure into a fresher déjà vu.”
She is still on my bed – Dugutigui
Dedicated to my friend Dugutigui, who decided giving up blogging today.
Thank you my friend, I feel honoured for having known you, for all your comments and all your wisdom. I will sure miss you. May you be happy and loved.