erotic girl

She is here as usual.
It’s a clear, freezing morning,
one day before Christmas.
Snow embraced every street and corner
like a mother holding the child.
It’s rather quite at this hour,
people warming up in their homes,
preparing for the next day.
Her name is Georgia.
Sit down by the window,
slowly and distracted mixing green tea with honey.
Her dark hair is caught in a poney tail
and realize I never saw her otherwise.
Except my deep fantasies.
In this underground world I dived with courage
as a familiar place, but still not fully explored.
I work as a bartender to the café she came
for 2 months and 7 days.
Remember this detail for a precise reason:
I fell in love with her in the moment
my eyes caught her look
A trembling hand couldn’t pick up a glass,
lost my sense of orientation,
knees gave way under me,
and most of all I felt I could fly without wings.
She’s a student and from that time
came every day in the early morning
to drink only a tea.
Dressed in mistery like a fugitive image of a painting,
still promises a glimpse of angelic gifts.
Refined like a ballerina,
in the same time breaths rudeness,
like she is sculpted in rudimentary lines.
Seem to be unfinished,
cause the artist died and could not finish his masterpiece.
But she is exposed being so precious.
Exults freshness and purity with a pinch of lust.
Her green eyes makes you think she can cross barriers,
but smile relocate in the place you wanted to get out,
saying need invitation.
Once sitting on the chair
she reveled her entire leg by mistake
and the moment was so short I grasped it by pure chance.
That night I could not sleep at all.
My imagination gone wild like a deer chaising by a hunter.
She never spoke to me.
I met her more than once in the club, on Saturdays,
but the first time was the worst.
Was so overwhelmed to see her dancing
I got drunk.
Could not meet and touch another girl,
and I am in the position of being a complete fool.
My life is real,
I am certainly directing my steps to a road with no return.
She is holding my heart, by my own free will.
And I should do something about that.
Being in love extend your nature to a larger one,
you stop being so single
and become the whole universe.
Consider myself a “get what I want” guy,
but I think I over delayed by mystical reasons.
In Indian religion, love is for seven lives.
She is my traveler from past
and I have to discover if she feels the same.
With this hopeful thought in mind,
distance from a clock beat,
she stand up and came to the bar,
look in my eyes and says:
“Would you like to be my lover?”
She knew.
She is.
I feel I died and gone to heaven.
Tomorrow is Christmas.

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http://hopeforpeople.wordpress.com/