It's a cool dark night. Not sure if there are stars outside as it's been long that I have seen one or maybe I haven't just been looking up at the sky but still we can create our own fantasy with one magician we have; Our mind.
So now come with me, beloved and let us imagine our story, let us repaint our world.
Close your eyes, until I say open, Sugar boy.
So for this story, I will be Juliet and you will be Romeo.
We would have a replay of our love story. This time do not come to my window with red flowers and whistle, oh sweet cowboy, I your Sugar girl would prefer that you come with chicken, Ice- cream and Shawarma.
In this snowing imagination of ours, come not with a violin or a flute. Come with pillows, so we can be at play and make a representation of me on the bed with the pillow, then together we would jump down the window! Outdoors!
In this rosy imagination of ours, we would not dance or sing comic songs of love in my Father's garden. Hence, I wouldn't wear a flowing gown meant for balls. I would take you to wet and spicy planets with my look.
Oh Romeo! In this imagination of ours, you wouldn't stupidly sip some poison off my lips.
No, we would roam the world, kiss on train, kiss on the street, kiss on waters and beneath the waters, on the lusty sands of earth, on sensual beds, on sacred pills, in dark rooms, on playful chairs, behind sultry walls.
But behind the sultry walls, we would become Jack and Rose. You won't be a painter but a crazy dancer.
In this raining imagination of ours, you would fail in your attempt to save me from taking my life.
“Jackkkkk….. I see you” I would scream as I slip off your hands.
“Just beside you rose” You would scream back.
And together we would float down down down till we reach the depth of the water.
In this shining imagination of ours, the ship will still get broken, while others scream and scream, my lips would we locked with yours.
You left hand on my bosom, with the other on my waist and my hands around your gentle face.
There we would be, sometimes freezing in time, sometimes floating about yet we would never be able to float back up to the decaying ship.
In this fantasy of ours, our love continues under the water where blue stars meet with pink sun and purple moon.
“My Venus” I would hear you say.
“My Chocolate” I would laugh and then we would dissolve into another world of succulent fantasy.
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