Thursday, 3 January 2013

Fiction Series - Story Eight

In the mist of your dry care
I wait for you. 
I wonder why I stumble upon your path, somehow intriguingly, we meet.
Is it the sleek skin across your hairline or the creases across your palm, I doubt. However, this unknown magnetism leads me to you, like a strong connection making my heartbeat reach its peak.
I wait for you.
The thrill of your existence exudes in me to such an extent that I can't even remotely put you out of my mind.
 I wait for you.
You're in my way, so inevitable.
All the vacant spots in my mind has been reserved and taken, by you.
But when I reach within your sphere my legs wobble, they fail me terribly.
Hands shiver, incessantly.
And my mouth goes dry as every rehearsed line fades out as I lay my eyes onto you.
Maybe I am an invisible girl amongst the crowd waiting for you to see a flick of me, a tiny one perhaps for my satisfaction.
Hopes are high, dreams unrealistic,
Oh reader doesn't matter,
let me live in this space, for it's perfect in my mind.
I am just another admirer of yours.
Waiting, just waiting. 

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1 comment:

  1. Ah! The story of every girl at some point of time!


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