luni, 9 noiembrie 2009

No matter how the weather is her plain figure is always the same. Her constant gaze touches everyone’s thoughts. Throughout the past days I have seen her in the coffee shop. Her hair…brown, eyes brown and she’s always dressed in colours that fit her completely.
Orange, green sometimes gray or black. I never did speak to her. Nobody ever did. But I know she’s a writer, because she writes in a notebook, and the simplicity and the air of balance coming from her tell me she’s a good writer.
She stays in front of the oak tree, with the yellow leaves above her head, alone, drinking her coffee, rejecting strangers with a look, that makes anyone run away.
It’s not love at first sight. Sure the first time I saw her I thought she looked fine, but soon I forgot about her. But then I noticed her again at the same wooden table with a cup of coffee.
No, there is no reason why she sits there. But the more I look at her I find an endless stream of inspiration. Just seeing her sit there with the coffee, behind her the autumn trees, sun shining through some clouds, cars passing by, nothing spectacular. Just plain simple.
I used to be all about complex feelings and things hard to understand. But it’s the simple things that are really hard to understand. Now I’ve fallen in love with her simplicity, her flare, her presence there is nothing on my mind so catching like her. It might be some kind of degeneration of love, some new age love. Some might call it so. But I feel so calm and quiet even when I’m near her table or even when I’m not.
I guess I’ll never ask her something or talk to her. Not because of fear of rejection, because I know she’s gonna be there the next day and so on. I see her there in the coffee shop she’s always mysterious, but not in a dark way, in the light way if that makes sense.
She does not make me fly, but she makes me feel so sure on my senses better than anything else, she dosen’t make me dream or not sleep at night, I can feel her presence on my fingertips or is it just the sun’s light..? I’m trying to catch a gray butterfly here… and this butterfly is called peace, not happiness but peace. Because happiness fades away. You can’t be happy forever right?
She’s plain simple like an apple. It’s the newest feeling I get. Like that feeling you get when the rain stops. I have no idea what her name is, but I don’t even want to find out, I would be disappointed. No name could be fine enough for her.
She’s plain simple like I said. I think I’ve fallen in love with the girl in the coffee place!