Coffee-Shop Poetry

 

“There are things that I would do for you; things that make me consider myself irrational.” A steady squall of leaves turned themselves into a coil, past the bare toes of the two bodies in the grass. “I think I prefer you over oxygen.” The side of his mouth bent upward in an edgy yet somehow smug grin, his jade eyes meeting the ground as he adjusted himself, his adam’s-apple bobbing as he gulped down some air.

“I should think you absurd for taking a fancy in my hideousness. But I’m too mesmerized to try and talk you out of it.” she leered in a puckered smile. The two people stared out into the sky, rolling with incandescent whites and blues. The wind had picked up by then; it hurled their hair around like feathers over an ocean; hers was looking a bit mermaid-ish, his looking rather numinous in the manner of something elf-like. While the quiet grew uneasy, the nameless girl sighed lightly, tossing herself onto the soft ground so that she could get a clear view of the vivid colors that lulled the sun onto each cloud perfectly. The airiness wearing now, the boy tried once more, this time picking at a single blade of grass that matched the shade of his right eye faultlessly.

“You could never talk me out of such a magnetic pull. It’s impossible. No matter how hard you pull, the precise arrangement will always keep me with you, if not in physical being, then in mind. Perpetually.” He glanced up, holding the gaze for only a few tense moments. It was green on green, blue on blue; the way the grass and the sky bared such outer-celestial sets of eyes.

“Well then, I would be a fool to try and rearrange your existence. So then, I should just have to leave it to science, since you insist on that theory. But I cannot say that I could believe such a supposition. All that I really do know is that the compel that you hold over me is painful, in that I cannot bear to be away from you. You are the cream on my chaii late’.” The smile was incredulously childish, playful. They both laughed inside, crinkling their noses smiling, leaning back on one elbow so that they could face one another.

       “No, no dear. You are the light bulb in my desk-lamp. I need my desk-lamp. You are the incense of my culture shop, the bongo of my coffee-shop poetry, the oxygen in my lungs.” With that, he tossed a little curled piece of her hair into the wind lightheartedly, sweeping the edge of her jaw with his finger as he did so. His eyes were mischievous and awestruck, nervous all the while. “You are the plastic shininess of a fresh, glossy picture. You are my picture,” he chuckled.

The jovial girl fell back onto the grass, the thick, mangle of hair spreading out in lovely twists. To the right were four trees, all of the same sort and all entangled within ages of growth and necessities and not an ounce of structure. Just above her was a single, silver pole, marked with age and dents. And to the left was her motive of being, her basis of inspiration. Just as the boy lay next to her then, she closed her eyes. “And you are my love,” she whispered.

Reviews

[James Horsley]

Beautiful. Such a sweet and innocent piece. I enjoyed your vocabulary here, and that slightly over-stylized dialogue is perfect for the work. Spot on!

[Larissa G.]

it was certainly sweet. I kept wondering about the realism of the dialogue unless of course they came from the backgrounds that encouraged that type of speech, But as always, your vocabulary and intentions and beautiful, as well as the description of the work Bravo.

[Sarah]

This was a sweet, romantic tale. Your description was lovely & really made the story! Great job. +)

[Broken.]

Omg I wanna cry. How beautiful this is!!!
Its cute yet romantic in the most playful and soft way, not pushing it so much, but keeping it smile-worthy at the end. I bet everyone who reads this will just have to smile at the end, no matter how much they try not to.
I know I did :)

[Anima Inspired]

Wow...this was beautifully written. The dialouge was absolutely dreamy throughout...and I like the way that it wasn't necessarily extremely likely that two people would be talking in such a way, but it made a lot of sense from the "heart's" point of view.

"You are the plastic shininess of a fresh, glossy picture. You are my picture," he chuckled.

This line was impossibly perfect...

[speakingcolors]

:) lovely. just what everyone pictures a perfect moment with someone you care for to be. just the right amount of talking, just the right amount of silence. childish, playful, wonderful. nice work.