Dear Sarah: First Meeting
love at first sight. dating. first meetings.
Forge through the battle of our enemies. We are the strangers to the strange. Isn’t it how it all begins? Unfamiliar until it becomes familiar. The bonds that are made and broken. Scarcely mended.
The jolt of your smile remains on my lips. Like residue of trash and guts.
When did I lose the time? Lost in your eyes. The fantasy, garnished with freshly bloomed flowers and the brightest sun. ‘Two moons’, they said, ‘struck as one.’ The collision was explosive and everything died. That’s how the story unfolds.
But this is not the time to perish or relive something that cannot be undone. This is now. Destruction and madness. Yes, your lips on mine. That’s where the picture ends. I asked you for a dance and you refused because you weren’t charmed by my long disheveled hair. That’s what you said. But then you took a second look and reconsidered. Your gentle hand, porcelain almost, required to be guarded with all my might. But you didn’t like that. You didn’t need a knight in armour. ‘The machismo’, you said. ‘Enough of that.’ I couldn’t resist and did not listen because your eyes captivated me and left me without a brain. The fable I told myself. I was gone in love. Lost in the faith, hope, sanctuary, and happiness. How could I deny myself the bliss? That’s the story with me. I spin the tale I want to see: the magic and sunshine. The colours of love and nothing less. You were exceptional and everything. I would have given you all until I couldn’t. And I never could because nothing was real. Not the impression or the story.
You left the stable that night. Became unreachable and I fell into darkness. But your bright smile always lights the way out.
Dear Sarah. Would you come and see me? I’m here in the jail of my mind. White padded walls and a single bed. That’s an exaggeration but I am unwell without you. All I see is that unpredictable smile from that one night. The night we met in the stables between horses’ stalls. The music played to calm the moon and my heart. A strange man left behind by his tour guide. That’s not true. A strange man who purposely diverted from his group to get a glimpse of freedom. A strange man who wanted to feel normal for a moment. A strange man who was taking a vacation from reality after a breakdown. They said it was work-related. I knew it was life-related. A singular voice takes a little longer to reach the audience without an amplifier and Sarah, you were my amplifier for that one moment that one night in the stables.
The search party found me hunched in dissolute under the stacked haystacks.
I fell in love with your strawberry hair and hazel eyes. I fell in love with your freckled cheeks and misty smell. The rain and rainbows all in one as you held my hand and return favour of a dance. I fell for you. Dear Sarah.
© Jacob Greb — 2022
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3 thoughts on “story teller: dear sarah”
Liking the twists, turns, and chaos of the word play. Keep up the good work.
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“They said it was work-related. I knew it was life-related.” Oh…😕💕💕💕💕💕
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I’m holding onto my seat trying to catch the words.
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