My mind couldn’t fathom the existence of a gypsy in full bloom.
The moment I first saw you…I felt as if I had been blindfolded my entire life, was brought to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro at dusk, and had the blindfold removed from my eyes. All my senses simultaneously erupted in a glorious polyphony of sorts. It overwhelmed me to look at you. Your Tibetan-Mongolian sui generis beauty was enough to bring me to my knees weeping with worship over you. Your outward magic drew me in. My cosmic wonder of a woman, you were. I’ve been swimming in your Pisces moon-lit irises since genesis.
The scent of you will never vanish my cerebrum; captivating Egyptian musk. Beautiful-smelling princess arousing the very makeup of my being…forever on cloud nine with you, my wind dancer. Studying your soul gyrate to the beat of Mother Nature’s drum as your lush locks drowned me in their oceanic abyss. Your lips served as my manna from heaven…your saliva my spiritual nourishment that would end up putting me under your spell. Your body an enchanted bohemian oasis draped in a French négligé. We never spoke a word because our eyes had their own language. Our tongues their own form of communication. Your visions and vivd dreams were, and will forever be, my place of both solitude and wilderness. My recherché femme fatale, I long to smile over you again.
How I thirst to gaze at the marvelous length of your eyelashes, the perfect fullness of your lips, as the windows to your soul get heavy. You’d rest your silk-soft mane on my bare chest and drift away with the sounds of the didgeridoo, and all I could do was inhale your sacred temple…your body. Naartjie drizzle…your taste. You’d dream of riding camels in Israel, or elephants in India, or floating on the turquoise waters of Mauritius. Your mind was the most tantalizing thing about you. I whispered, “put me into a trance, gypsy”; our bodies entwined, never to be untangled. Nag Champa incense burning, lava lamp flickering, doorway beads rustling…our inner animals at play. You beautiful, evil panther.
Your voice a choir of melodious cherubs, your words a vibrant masterpiece. Your walk a demand for show-stopping attention. To live a life with not one regret would mean to make art to you, with you, to the ends of the Earth. What more can I say about you that you are not already aware of? Your confidence is your elegant nature, your strength.
You are the sun. You are the moon. You are the oceans. You are the birds of the sky and wild beasts of the Earth. You are spirit. You are soul. You are life. You are the stars. You are lightning. You are thunder. You are sunsets. Rises. You are rain. You. Reign.
“A sacred muse you graciously gave me. I am eternally indebted to you, my maker”.