And she comes to me without any word.
Stand before my eyes her entire body, covered with velvet cloth in grey, as I sit motionless, my eyes on her. Little do I move, or having the slightest need to, for my weatherbeaten self begins to deteriorate from punishing journey of all time. Tired and powerless, my body rests on that old patio chair; my hands lie quietly on its peeling armrests, my back lean against its hard wooden structure, my head tilts to one side. From my half-opened eyes, I could see her standing, her face darkens from shining bright light from the background. There is nothing else around but her, for everything around me is nothing but just an empty white room with white walls and white floor and ceiling and everything.
She pulls her gown upward, revealing a bit of her fair-skinned leg.
She starts walking around me, taking closer look at how exhausted I am. I feel cold inside, and when she comes closer I could feel the radiance of heat brushing against my skin from a distance, and disappears as she moves further. In my nose I smell the scents of thousand flowers, fresh morning meadows, cooling spring water. I close my eyes and inhale it deep into me, pushing my nose towards the sky, adoring the sensuality. I feel refreshed.
And then she stops behind me, placing her palms on both sides of my shoulder, rubbing out the pain gently; the radiating heat from her body slowly travels into me. She moves her fingers, I could feel her very soft skin, up to my neck and onto my cheeks and entire face. The intoxicating scent gets awfully real, awfully intimidating. She lets her palms pressed against the skin below my jaw, on my ears, caressing my head in the most lovable manner. She leans forward and her hair - her long, thick, wavy hair - falls onto my face as she pulls my face up to look at her; very little do I resist, for the smell of her hair warms me up even more pleasantly. I slowly grab the armrests with my naked hands, slowly taken aback by her sensual approach; my wondering mind slowly becomes so empty, the pain diverts away.
And her lips.
Her soft lips lands on my face, just a little away from my deafening ear. I could feel her warm breath brushing me as she moves her lips down along my neck line to my bare shoulder. Her moist lips leave a mysterious trail of love and affection. Softly she sinks her fingers into my hair, grabbing it, pulling it away from her face just so that my neck appears more approachable, for her to sink her plush cheeks and moist lips onto, while her hands still caressing my face, my shoulder, my chest. Never I open my eyes anymore, not because I am too tired, but for something tells me not to. Just sit and enjoy the show, her warm breath whispers, as she lets it travelling close to my helpless ear.
And then her arms fold around my neck pleasantly, as she presses her face against mine closely. And oh, the warmth and the joyful love I feel, nothing can really describe. The intoxicating scent of her body pushes me deeper into my own sensations, my own imaginations, my own dream. Barely I can breath from this killing scent, let alone from her tightening hug. But I feel just well damn better. Her tender motions make me slowly dying in her agonizing beauty.
And then she turns around and tenderly she sits on my lap. With her hands pushing against my chest she comes closer; the featherlight pressure from her palms grows as she does. In no time her face comes before mine, just as inch apart; my whole face warms up, so does my whole body, so does my weak heart. Her long hair, around my face creates a barrier, and from my closed eyes the white light disappears. Her hair shades everything as she lowers her face closer towards mine, I could feel her breath again wiping on my dry lips, drawing them into me makes me feel even more alive. Her sweet-smelling breath gives me power as it lightly travels into every vein in my weakened body.
I raise my arms and my hands find her by her velvet-covered waist. She is so warm, so pleasantly warm, giving a sense pleasantness, like a living fireplace during the worst of winter nights. I lay my arms across on her back, my fingers grab the velvet fabric tight, the moment gets more intense. Time seems to stop, the air no longer moves. With my eyes still closed I find her hair and caress it gently, sinking my fingers into, and brushing it as if I am brushing my fingers against priceless sheets of silk. Our beating hearts reach the same pace. I feel her silky skin on her neck, as she lets out a short sigh next to my ears.
Come on now, tell me that you love me.
Come on now, tell me that you desire me.
Come on now, tell me that you want me.
I opened my eyes to look at her beautiful eyes, and almost as instantly, she disappears into thin air. My hands hang unsupported, all the warmth dissipates away. All that is left is her intoxicating scent that is, too, slowly thinning in the ambient. Within a minute or two, she disappears completely into complete nothingness, leaving me still stranded on probably soon to be my death bed. And my body starts to rot again, as I slowly lose my breath, my whole body weakens more and more till I can no more feel any pain, even from those little peeling paints on the armrest that poke into my arms. Here comes the bright light again, and for the last time, I close my eyes. Tears come rolling down the corners of my eyes, not from the sadness nor the disappointment I am feeling, but from the unexpected visit of an angel in grey velvet, minutes before everything ends for real.
And soon, it does.
* * *
p/s: me and my sad imaginations.