The Perfect Waltz
I miss seeing the shadow of your eyelashes on the pillow as the moonbeams would dance and twirl in through the window, and settle on your peaceful face. Stardust always followed, as if the beams were their carpet of welcome, and the white halo around you, their dance floor. The soft breeze outside was their music, it seemed. All night long, they would waltz – on your cheeks, on your forehead, on your lips, and yes, on your eyelashes. They’d get caught in your hair and shimmer. So perfectly. And all night long, I would watch, mesmerized, as you slept oblivious to the wonder you created. Yes, you created the wonder.
For without you, the moonbeams, the stardust, the wind, they all fall and break on the concave dent of the pillow where your head used to rest, and they shatter into a million pieces as they find nothing now to be captured by and held in; nothing to reflect their beauty.
Harsh white light is all I see now as I stay awake to the sound of the winds howling.
-Catherine Nipps | Reviewed by Farrokh
Image source: pixabay.com