Memoirs of a Ripple

- Just a little something I've been writing. It's not really meant to be a "poem", but I shortened it down from a short story I was working on. I'll post the story in a few days, so if you like this, keep a lookout for the longer version. Please let me know what you guys think and I hope you like it! -

She sat perfectly upright on the train that was raging
towards Sofia, a city of lust and desire.
An open book was strategically placed in front of her,
She was reading of poetry and dreaming of the sea.
Her yellow dress made brighter by her vibrant hair,
The sun seeping in through the window, enveloping itself in her bare back.
Making love to the curve of her neck, the gentle bump of her shoulder,
And the steeping of her spine, down down down, where it craved to seek
Her warmth.

The stranger leaned in across from her, and placed his searching eyes on her.
No smiles, just knowing glances.
In one oceanic ripple she uncrossed and crossed her legs,
Thighs flashing and muscles tensing and releasing,
like lovers riding the seas.
She read his palm, told him his future. A trick she learned from a gypsy.
“You will fall in love and marry someone in the next 5 months”, she said.

Worlds collided and stars exploded. Memories of the future ran across their faces,
And the train and the world stood motionless.
Then, they both got off at the same stop and the world danced once more.

* * * * * * * * *

They built empires from empty pockets and love grew out of enlightenment.
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons was their life’s music and Cognac was their dance.
Their bodies were old friends, embracing familiarly, yet they exploded
Like waterfalls gushing forth, finally freed from dams and bed rock.
Their words were never spoken for destiny needs no language.

Their fervor took a physical form, too passionate and demanding to stay intangible.
Nine months plus one made ten, a child too shy to come out sooner,
The love she felt in her mother too strong to leave just yet.
Hearing the whispers of her father there, just beyond her reach, coaxing her
Into the world.
She had his unruly midnight hair and nomadic eyes along with her knowledge.
“She is me on the outside and you on the inside,” he said.

Their life was one big opera and they were the performers,
Their stage a ship headed for the stars.

But in a Communist outrage, and on the steps of the Embassy one day,
One passed on.
The other went to America to search for dreams that could no longer
be found in the ocean.
But they could not stay apart for long, and so he came to her.

He came to her in a gentle caress of a summer’s ray of sun,
A cool drink of water that dripped down her lips and into her blouse.
He made himself appear to her in gentle brooks and storming seas.

Their love, meanwhile, hungered and grew, untamed by the world.
A fire that burned too hotly to be extinguished by hard rain.
For twenty years she flamed and burned, stronger by each year,
Sending smoke signals to the skies.
Like sailor’s lost messages in bottles, a decorative glass
On the ocean floor, forever lost.