Love Through Senses

When she smiles, time stands still. A body of water entirely undisturbed by rain or man, hidden in the depths between euphoria and paradise. Delightfully stagnant, yet unsoiled by darkness. Sunshine radiates through her skin, her eyes streaming with endless life and grace. Her eyelids flitter, your nerves unwillingly stand on end- the moment you realise you are completely powerless.

Your entire body encapsulated in a consistent warmth akin to being dipped head-to-toe into an invigorating aromatic bath; senses heightened, breathing stunted, heart pounding. She laughs, the gravity of Earth tugs your limbs towards it's core, hopeless to resist her pull and feebly unable to bear standing alone on this planet one second longer without her.

It's a pull on the heart, a pull on human nature, a pull of instinct, pulling on every exhausted fibre of your being. Hopeless. Helpless. Afraid, but oh so strong and so sure. Sure of how every of her movements capture you. Sure of how every flick of her wrists cut your soul. Concretely sure of how every fumble and twist of her delicate fingers through her tangled hair crack the surface of your heart, yet also sure of how every rasp of oxygen from deep within her chest pulls you closer to her. Sure of your complete undying love.

A fatally ambrosial scent drifts from her body, like the strongest narcotic, unbelivably dazzling and intoxicating. Soon, I'm falling into a void of dizziness and disarray. What is this delusion that clouds my mind. What is this lumosity that drowns me in equal delight and confusion. I can't breath, but I can sing. I can't think, but I can dream. I can't move, but I could dance. How can one possibly even begin to describe this complete elation and ecstacy.

How could one ever love again after this once. How could one ever show love for any other being in a similar measure compared to this one. Once you've experienced this love, how can anything else even slightly satisify the same craving and desire. It's her. It's always been. Yet the mind remains absently plagued by one deafening thought...is it an illusion?

Is it real, or purely a dream? Where do the barriers of these genres meet...it is possible for them to become intertwined and blurred- intrinsically impossible to distinguish. The confusion and fear rise once more. Darkness swarms, dust befouling the pristine body of water you were so recently basking in and adoring. Is she real? Alas her scent, as if reassuringly, lingering around your nostirls once again and polluting the air. One can not feel the effects of fear for long while clouded by it. It slows slithers away and into the dark, dorment until next time. Dream or not, cast that ridiculous notion aside for now and savour her currently while she is swimming in your arms, perfectly cradled, with happiness fuelled by a power undoubtebly and sensually and irrevocably crafted from love.