He could only think about her eyes. The way they shined in the mere absence of light but that of the moon. The way they expelled joy while letting out locked words, and tension when doubt was poured over her. The same sight that enchanted his heart with no more than a first encounter, was the same that gave him cold chills when he realized that daydreaming can be broken into tiny pieces in a fraction of a second. The same stare, full of presence and delicate sweetness that he could not get out of his wobbling mind, was the one that spilled the only chance he had to the unknown joy of pure love. No words were needed, the shine in her eyes was deeper and more hostile than any words. It was something that was out of his hands, out of his possibility to influence, to enchant, to entrance or to dart. Not even cupidity or a magic potion could change that stare of doubt, of reject, of a forgotten love story that was once the fest of their lives. Yet, he was already enchanted, already under the magic flow of the feminine. This stare, these eyes, drove him crazy. He did not only realized that he had fallen deep, but that this passion which is held in his heart was the mere effect of a dramatic encounter. A clash of archaic weapons, of the madness of the ocean and the crumbling sound of a lightning strike. A natural impulse which is held intuitively and primitively in those who open towards the wild. A bass line which is kept deep down in our guts yet it is released with such sweetness and pureness that we can only attribute this astonishing feeling to come from our hearts. A feeling which in matter of a blink is released as a splash of water into our whole being. He stood confused and entranced looking at her. Realizing that all he experienced was as beautiful as the creation of the whole universe. He might still hold some hope for there is only something stronger than faith, passion. The curiosity which has driven explorers to the unknown is the same that gives courage to this little man with a great heart. He has nothing to loose but some quiet nights. He has nothing to loose but that which he would never understand otherwise. He is simply curious, passionate and persistent. Persistent as the eyes which stroke him since the very first day. Persistent as the dream which keeps him moving since sunrise. Persistent as the final sip he got from her sight, an invitation towards letting go, yet he holds on with a big smile and an unfulfilled desire for everlasting love. He was stoped abruptly, but his mind kept flying high with no limits nor barriers. He is who he is, and her eyes had moved that which he had kept locked for long. He took a free fall into the iris of her heart, and he is still falling, in the void, looking for the explanation of that stare, of those eyes.
Jose Andres Arvide