The Dress...

It has been a long day, even for her.  She reached home, and couldn't think of how to start her rest of the day. She wasn't feeling hungry, nor tired; she was just a bit numb.
Her beloved cat asleep on her pillows, enjoying the unorganized bed she left unwillingly in the morning. 
She dropped her heavy bag on the bed, threw the keys, the watch and the cellphone and opened her wardrobe, to stand still...

A dress was hanging facing her.  It was THE DRESS.  She has seen it a while back, loved it but knew she can never wear it, and now it is in her closet, teasing her and awakening her senses...

She wore it, and looked in the mirror, with the back zipper three quarters up, the ribbon belt hanging from the back untied, and yet... 
Somehow it was her, the one that she lost few years ago.. She has seen her lost soul back, her youth back, her lost inner beauty. She knew she was the same as she was in the morning, but somehow it was her, the lost her.  The dress was her.. It was dark and yet transparent, like her mysterious old self.  It was graceful and yet shy, like she was years and years ago. It was like that night sky she loved, black and yet so bright with all the stars.. The silk ribbons of the dress reminded her of the Sunrise she used to follow, like the rays of Apollo's chariot after a beautiful dark night.

She looked twice, thinking she will lose "her" again.. She was still there, with a twinkle in the eye. 
She took it off, and quietly dressed with her daily comfy ensemble, cuddled the now awake cat, and walked out of the room.  But to her she wasn't quiet, she was jumping, elated with her found self.

few hours later, she came back and opened that magic wardrobe. Took the dress and wore it again, this time she tied the ribbon, and pulled the zipper up. She opened the door, and yelled with her old innocent voice...
"Come and see" with a wide and soft smile "come and see, its me... I'm still here"
"it is you" a voice answered back, with an adoring look... "it is you"...

Both of them knew, it was her again.  Both of them knew, something is new and yet so old.. They hugged and laughed.. Somehow it was so familiar, they are not strangers again.

The dress is very beautiful but it was the deep velvety feeling it wrapped her with.  The reflection of her memories shined within its ribbons, and the darkness she has seen torn away by its silk...

A Cage...

The Grapevine needed to be protected from these migrating birds. They loved the sweet dark grapes in the small heavenly garden.

She watched her protector with a net and some tools, she heard loud knocks and then she was covered. 
She enjoyed the raindrops, watching them landing on each of the beautiful spherical grapes. 
She waited for the wind's playful whispers to tickle and dance with her leaves as they always do, they were quiet. Her leaves were entangled with the strings, they couldn't play, they couldn't move, they were not free.  She was imprisoned, entangled, and sad.

The migrating birds played in this beautiful garden, ran between the roses, enjoyed the lavender, spread their beautiful wings, and drank the rain drops. They sang to the wind, they sang their home melodies, they are here bringing whimsical lyrics, and beautiful strange colours to the garden.
They felt the hunger, and ran to the only tree reminded them of their home.  Dreaming of the sweet dark spheres, and the protective shelter they needed to sleep.
They reached the vine, with their simple dreams, tried to eat but they couldn't, tried to sleep but they couldn't.  They stared and stared, the joy vanishing from their eyes, they are there but cannot reach, they became imprisoned to despair, they became slaves to the need, they became colourless and sad.

She (the protector) observed the scene, she wiped the tears, and wondered, was she the Entangled Grapevine, or the Joyless Colourless bird?

Oblivion...

They debated, then argued, then stopped talking.

She decided not to do this any more, he is not all of her life. A part, but not all. Oblivion was her choice of word, her choice of behaviour, her choice of treatment. A solution, she thought, that can help her live a parallel life she always thought to have, without him in it. He might be a passer by, but not part of it.

Weeks they stayed without exchanging a word with their eyes, weeks they were following each other's actions and whereabout, enchanted with the blessed gift of blinding pride.

She sat in the semi empty library, reading that same page again and again, staring at the lines when she sensed him. Her body sensed him, she realised what skipping a heart beat meant, what having an urge of emotions flowing through her felt like. She learned what love is. 
She looked to see his shadow searching between the scattered shelves. He saw her, lifted a pretending lazy arm, selected a book, any book...And walked through all the empty seats, and sat next to her, as close as he can be, their skin separated by the fabric of his shirt. He felt the warmth of her beloved soul, longing for a smile from her eyes, for her giggles, for her crazy thoughts.  He loved her.

Indifferent they thought to each other they can be, lovers they knew they were, and will always be.

Irrelevant...

"You are irrelevant" the voice said.

She heard these words, like daggers through her whole being...
It is true, she was irrelevant...Neither here nor there... Unmissable, maybe for a day or two, and then forgotten..

She has done nothing in her long life, nothing satisfying...  She was nothing, her life was nothing... Her memories were limited, her dreams were rare, her old mind lacked the strength to control her aching body. Irrelevant she was.

She sat on her knees and cried. Then to her eternal sleep she went.

Her cat licked the warm tear, waited for his life long friend to cuddle him, waited for her to sit so he can comfort her with his purrs. He looked at her with his adoring eyes, and slept near her cold face trying to warm it.

Her beloved olive tree bent, for days waited for her life giving friend. She wanted to show her the big black olives she was carrying.  She wanted to dance to her songs, and feel the soft touch of her frail hand.

The whole house stood still, her pots dull, her precious cups singing sad songs. Her books lost their words, and plants lost their life.

Old and frail she may have been, irrelevant to them all she was not.

Andromeda, the chained...

Andromeda, a chained woman immortalised by the Greeks, a galaxy containing the constellation of stars she loves to observe in the night sky.

She never thought at this time and age to see, not one, but hundreds of Andromedas, chained and ready to be fed to, not one, but hundreds of monsters. 

She saw the photo, and read the plea of a father.  She heard the cry of a priest, and the awful pain of a desperate brother who lost his young son to that chilling heat. 

The image of that constellation changed in her mind, the stars creating it started to fall, black rain started to fall, her skin felt the deadly chill of despair and her heart stopped beating.  

Her hope has started to die, is there a reviver?

He would have been Thirty One... A Tribute

Nineteen years ago, his day was spent in tears..  With candles lit...

"Out of this world" he was described as a comfort to soothe mum and dad.  "Out of this world, that's why his soul couldn't stay"...

He would have been thirty one years of age today, and like every year, a candle is lit and some unspoken thoughts and hidden dreams of four people are screamed within their hearts, secret tears and suffocated sobbing are felt between them.  
Façade smiles are exchanged hiding these swallowed tears.

19 years, and this hidden scream is felt. 19 years and this wound is bleeding. 19 years and your stories are told, your eyes are described, your welcomed naughtiness is remembered and your tender hugs are felt... 19 years, with a kiss to your wonderful face is sent..

"Out of this world"...  

Miss you my Complete One, miss you my lost one... Miss you brother