A parlance innate, perpetual, too special in its own,
Beyond invisible realms of the metaphysical and the ethereal,
Each step closer dispelling the eternity of any periphery,
Makes eons mingle, stalling every moment passing by.
A charm of romanticism with that effervescent love, cannot adorn the inherently yet a bit toothy smile of anyone but her. With skin flowing like silk with such pearly glow, and a sculpted face with eyes beholding a fleeting glory of innocence; moments of idiocy and the then terms of endearment, makes my mind traverse the outgrown wanderlust of sanity itself.
Sense of humor could very well entertain itself, but the effect of her insanity seems just unprecedented. Everything and anything have been adopted with "u"s and they sound real phunee. Even a puppy would be henceforth known as a 'powpee'. Her silence seems minimal with disturbance being phenomenal.
A rare occurrence, but terms of endearment call for a hurt ego, to be calmed with some real poor jokes; which could be at anyone's cost.
Frugality sustains itself by saving ten from a taxi yet spending two thousand on some new shiny idiotic fabric which could be very well used to clean a wet table, even rub a dirty floor. Culinary skills do not need any introduction, mostly they are bragged long before the food can honor your plate. With hands carved out of a poetic finesse, it would be a treat to watch her cook. Most of the times a measured sense of impatience exists in her mind, trying to finish the most nonsensical things quickly.
Quite satirically to my forgetfulness, God has endowed her with a mighty sense of remembrance, more powerful than any organizer on this planet. Rest assured the date, time and place of any and every event will be there in her head. More than often it's a welcome trouble, when you are reminded of forgetting a few fake birthdays. I am even sometimes confused with the real ones.
Quite satirically to my forgetfulness, God has endowed her with a mighty sense of remembrance, more powerful than any organizer on this planet. Rest assured the date, time and place of any and every event will be there in her head. More than often it's a welcome trouble, when you are reminded of forgetting a few fake birthdays. I am even sometimes confused with the real ones.
An embarrassing set of nicknames other than the primary ones, can make even a corpse laugh. Perhaps that's a part theory and a part practice. Understanding each other is never a primary, having a highly correlated sense of humor, however is. Most of the times her eyes are moonstruck with love, however a bit of my impatience relieves them of any cosmic delusion for long.
Perhaps it's just a dream, perhaps it's material under the semblance of another dream, but it still goes on and on, impulsively. The morning star shines bright, leaving behind a silent conundrum of wakefulness, forgetfulness and pure bliss.
