Perspectives
Autor: Georgia Soares | Publicado: 2012-02-21T19:33:00-08:00

The Girl
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I woke up to the annoying sound of the phone vibrating on the wooden floor. I looked across my bed. No, he wasn’t there. I stood up, hurriedly dressed myself and stuffed my bag with books.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
We talked to each other, mostly through our stare. Time had gone by. The feeling had remained strong. My heart thumped, because there they were: his sweet smile, his warm gaze. I said hi. He said hello. His arms embraced my figure; I returned to trust, to love. My hands gravitated to his black, smooth hair. I loved it so much. And I could hear him whispering to me, words that comforted, cheered, appeased my heart. Then I caressed his face and noted a bruise, a round and hurtful purple spot. What had happened? He explained. He said, your kiss can heal it, kiss me, he asked. And he opened a heart-melting smile and I kissed him very much. And very much the whole world was healed with love.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; What a pleasant dream it had been, so abruptly interrupted by that stupid cell phone. He wasn’t there. I gazed at myself in the mirror. Accept it, he’s not here. Time passed. I got the train and seeped my strong coffee. Too sweet, too strong. But I drank it. I pulled a book out of my tote, because I wanted company. Would he be any closer if I read about a love story? Maybe, if it had a happy ending. It would then fix my ending, maybe. I seeped my coffee, too strong for 8 AM.   &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The occurrence had been a dream, and thus I should forget it. It was not real. At this moment he was, as a matter of fact, far away, either alone or accompanied by. Elsewhere. Alone, perhaps, but never lonely, never dreaming of my dreams. He thought about taking a stroll, calling his best friend, cramming for a test, feeling bored. But me? No.   &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Shut up, I reprimanded my thoughts. The Boy (Written by Jonathan Batista)I’ll start off by explaining the heart she writesShe could outshine the brightest star’s on a starry nightHer perfect hair, her nice tan complexionThe way she commands a nice man’s attentionThe way she pulled me in, as if her heart’s a black holeHer eyes make diamonds look like shards of black coalA powerful demeanor, haters are too late to hurt youWith a smile that makes her look like she’s in toothpaste commercialsIt’s beyond physical perfection, an intellectual connectionThe way my heart beats when she’s around defines exceptional affectionThe first mistake was being bashful that is why I believe in lessonsThe way her presence gives my essence a reason for being present It seems that in my deepest dreams she’s intertwined with my destinyBut when I open my eyes to reality, she’s never actually next to meWhat an ocean of emotions and she’s a sea skipperYearning to sleep knowing that soon I’ll be with herBecause that is when my confidence is where I wish it really wasWalking to her with intentions to show her that this is really loveSee to me she’s my girlfriend, to her I’m a brotherForever my secret lover, I can’t get enough of herAnd actually, to simply state it factually,I hope one day I could make my dreams a realityThe way she puts her hair strands behind her ears-And stands there with a sneer that accents her dimples which in turn maxes my fearsWhen I see her with others, my faith becomes deadBut when she asks me for a writing utensil, my face becomes redThe way her mere presence controls me, the way I dream that she holds meMy one and only, without her I’m cold and lonely.