imagined things / by grace mcgrade

He thought about her endlessly.

He thought about how she seemed to carry the furious sun in her mane, and how she had more hair than she needed.

About the continuous redness of her plump lips, always pouting, slightly pursed open, on the brink of gasping something either absurd or profound.

About her cobwebbed eyelashes, concealing her giant topaz colored eyes, always twinkling with secrets and half grins. She was wickedly clever, too clever for anyone’s good. Wickedly funny, fawn eyed and awake.

He could still feel the aura of unreality she wore with her, the weight of her body on his, that made him vibrate and tingle with a sense of strangeness and simultaneous familiarity. They way her kisses clung to his throat like moistened stars.

He sought now, more than ever, to understand the inner workings of her universe, the subtle complexities of her mind. The way she seemed to levitate above reality, atom thin. Her nonchalance was a love spell like no other.

The hum of unmet desire and curiosity grew louder and louder in his chest, projecting him through a kaleidoscope of possibilities, folding in and out of each other like laser origami.

His imagination, which had always been a place of the deepest solace, was no longer enough. He sprung into action, backed by the fiery mass of emotion that she had ignited within him, his heart jerking and pumping from something that finally, wasn’t cocaine.