He speaks directly to her ear, “You are still so small, my child.”
She withdraws to peer upwards to his gaze, with quivering lips and weary stare, to then commit a moment in a burning. She kisses him. Upon the lips, smooth with each waxen mouth that fires up a fever to the downing daytime. It leaves her mark upon his own, with red upon his porcelain.
Her passion wields fire, has carried a torch through to him, ignited the smallest areas without a flame. Love bounces through to him, playing chords on whatever harp can be envisioned for his heartstrings.
“I am not the enemy of yours,” says Lisa, gravitating her tone through a certain sweetness. “I love you, with all of my yearning heart,” she adds, without notice so much to Joel, both through her tears and the shades of the night. She says, next, “Why do you block so much of me?” in an ever sweeter tone, laughing next to the words, to then add, “I was aiming to go around you, until I saw you. Then, I stopped, and placed myself in an awe I could not escape from.”
“You are still so beautiful, Lisa,” says Joel, wandering between his own words, like the confusion in them, meagerly transparent. “My apartment is near. Will we enter?”
Her cheeks flush with the red crimson of one new morning sun, at the sound of those words. To wrap her in arms as wide as wings, from the eagle as Joel, determined of eyes to have a glimpse of possession. He can count droplets of sweat upon her brows. A scent raises itself to him, enticing him by the need to devour.
What love is, by the torch of trust, raised high as the flag with spread-about coloring. What wields Spain, by Spanish passion? Fire is simple, and to the two that are presented here, their lives have been transfigured for this endearing moment. For this moment, among all moments that will climb over to the next, a future can wait. They trust, for the moment, because the many more in the future, are patient when the moments wish to then move onward. Trust is the flame for the present, revealing the future by the light such a torch can emit.
Her breath comes through from ruby lips that have been smeared, in the rouge once-applied. Her eyes have glanced over to the side of them, while remaining in his grasp, her form leaning into him.
Love has a flavor. Blissful, while radiant, in all emotions and complexions, exposed for a future’s sake. To Joel, a future is as uncertain as his own love, his own heart, his own purpose. He has expressed this, as we know from him, as his words resonated with the stubborn, thumping heart inside his chest. Beyond the flesh, beyond the walls of him, a fear resides, blanketing the needed fervency for heartfelt devotion.