Tales of A Libra

Him, Those Words

-Ideal man: Someone who bestows her with truthful majestic words, someone who naturally speaks poetry out of brilliance-

Leaning my bare back against the cold sheet, I am close enough against him that his broad chest connects with mine; a tranquil sense of close gap, mixed with the splendour of the warmth encaging our bodies.

His eyes ogle onto mine, and his red wine lips are moist with liquid, melting taste swirling on my tongue and before then I thought I was out of words, unable to speak with a curse bestowed by the celestial, yet didn't I notice he is there still; he mutes me.

His stare tells me messages his sealed lips could not spell, and he casts upon me a magic trick saying I will see stars even brighter than the night sky and even more majestic than those colours up there. Yes I am trapped under his delusion, but we both know our worlds have just merged like the golden sun sets down with the waves of the sea.

A trail of pathways he left upon my thigh, and he softly sings me a lullaby to spread my legs wide. These chapters are supposed to be rough, but he accompanies me with that of a soothing sound of water flowing. And he asks me to write a song the same length as he does, and he wants me to sing it for him. That is when my pale rosy lips come apart only to blow out the tune and rhythm of love cooing for his name while swallowing my words of innocence and risk; I trust him.

His sweaty forehead is cascaded by the locks of dark brown, brushing against mine of deep raven. His smile tells me that a perpetual night is ought to approach. And his voice enters my hearing that I leans my temple against his shoulder to listen with closed eyes,
"Who were you in the past?" he asks me, his warm hand rests onto my breathing chest and his fingers spreading apart, "Who were you before you? The self which used to be your pride."

My aimless gaze suddenly falters upon the fingers on my chest. His sturdy hand, giving me warmth,
protection,
pleasure,
appreciation,
ocean,
present,
identification,
acceptance,
attention,
security;
love.
Yet, I wonder if the past self of mine craves the same list as I do, with a greater and stronger desire that manages to overwhelm my sole capacity. I wonder if this man here with me can accept the past self of mine just like how he grants my wish of endless true promises. But, just a glance I give I know even deeper that he is too, seeking for answers from me. And I shall give him what he needs.

"I was a woman of destruction, the thorny roses I touch wilt into colour darker than the pit of darkness. And I need a cigarette to smoke out the fear inside of me, to ignite the demon caging me and to embark on a journey of hazy vision. I need a car to lean my back on when I pull out the lighter from the pocket of my jeans and see the fire sparking before me.

Then I will let the cans of beer rolling on the floor of my rooms whenever I kick them. And I would have a dog chained up next to my front door just to see it barking at those people passing by my fences and gate.

And I need sex with a random man who says "Just for tonight" and tomorrow we'll be damn strangers leaving with different directions. Because I am up to no love but just mere one night stands to ease my tension.

I was as bad as you wish to define, even greater than the crimes you have heard of. I was a bad woman." and I decide to ascend from the bed with my trembling legs.

However, a force runs down my wrist and it is seconds later I see him grabbing my hand and whispers, "Stay." And so I descend even lower than my own self-esteem. And I settle next to his warm breathing chest having him to coil his muscular arms around me, protecting.

"Lighting up a cigarette with dancing flames, drinking beers each night and enjoying anonymous sex with an anonymous man, those do not define who you are, and it does not confirm the length of your kindness and the evil lurking within you.

Even now you are a flower growing with delicate petals, where the dark colour of your past blemishes with the rain and drought you have been through, like snakeskin it peels apart from your proud beauty.

Never fall into assumptions like that one, it can be a careless mistake and it is dangerous. I don't want you to give answers to yourself solely because we can't see the accuracy of the answers we give ourselves with. Everyone was a bad man of their own past, if you dare ask one of them and they will say, 'I regret of doing it before.'

Here you do not have to be swallowed by the daunting past because there is no demon inside of us; it is just an imaginary monster we created within our own lingering thoughts and we can stop that. And there are no right or wrong in this world; it is just a matter of people's perspective. From what I can see here, you have evolved into a graceful white swan who was once stomped even before it could dance." his words, ignited the passion within me.

His masculinity affects me entirely. How his vision of the world differs from mine, how every reality he takes as a chapter from a book he would read, and while that the reality is like a rock smashing hard against the glass breaking it apart.

With my eyes merge with his, I have just realised that he has helped me to evolve into a person I never thought I could be. He is my wings, and he says, "Just fly."

-No, she is never a bad woman with cigarettes and beers. She is just a woman who dares ask a man to protect her with a poem-