Tantalizing me from the door, the fireflies left me longing for them. To grasp them in my soft hands, until they fornicate amongst themselves to engender a new beginning to their petite progeny. I craved to touch the green paddy, to see them burgeoning beauty in the eyes of the jostling sightseers. I wait to engulf the sky in my eyes, just to embellish them with the stars I have fabricated out of love that never fades. I wish to hold the hearts of the nomads, just to direct them to the abode of their beauty, silently residing along their heart. I want them to believe, in their hidden elegance, just like I breathe for the part of my soul belonging to Aphrodite.
The closed door, I would stare with my gleaming eyes. Engraving patterns of conflicts amidst my cramped mind, just like the patterns etched on its body. The conflicts of witnessing the nature bloom and wither from its panel or cross the boundaries to finally endure the touch: conflicts of fear that everything looks beautiful from miles yonder and the jeopardy encasing itself in its intimacy. Conflicts of desire to live today with eccentric joy in quietus, or concoct for the unseen future waiting ashore. And everytime the conflicts rest in the conclusion, my mind finds my soul creating an Athena, embracing every sonder in a way more elucidating from the prior.
And today, as I watch the closed door, I could see the vivid Athena smiling over the locks: always prudent enough for the reality to confront. And as soon as I open my door, I find Aphrodite waiting for me, to take me to my dreams of desires, letting me caress my beauty with pride.