I’m not sure the beneath consists a prose – poetry but for sure is a try of… when the will isn’t enough the mood completes it.
A Sense Working as Two
I heard you coming by the sound of your slippers echoed in the long endless corridor. The beats indentified with the beats of my heart. In few more beats you were in my shelter and then all stopped. I smelt your perfume mixed with your sweat and stopped reading as the sunlight of yours projected its beams onto my soul. I need no more to read. I spread my hands and gently touched any simple carves on your face. I felt you smiling as my fingertips followed the lines of your lips, the contour of the nose, sockets of your nicely-designed wide eyes. In response two warm tears run off my own eyes that I cannot admire full-senses your beauty. I turned slowly my fingertips on the book lying in front of me and reached the line I kept for this time. I read for you smoothly quietly as desired my voice touches only your absolute heart. In trembling voice & an agony to impress you I whispered: wrinkles on a tested face are the countless time through & by wind of life impresses and steps upon its reality of summarized memories. Golddust, butterflies & birds are also travel by wind’s currents of reformation.
I heard your joyful laugh & by yelling “Its good grandpa!” your bright beams left the cold room leaving me in the sense of its darkness. I continued reading, touching word by word the colorless full of light meanings…