JUSTE UNE LETTRE D'AMOUR

Sundays like this

This is just something which was in my mind. While I was writing it it was really intense because after I wrote something down, the heaven outside changed as the way as I wrote it before. Even the rain
This a Annylize story, today wrote by myself this time. (for you to imagine how the light was, while I wrote)

" She is a an old soul, with young eyes, a vintage heart and a beautiful mind"
- Nicole Lyons

Sundays like this...

This are the Sundays I like the most, her warm body leaning against mine, my head resting on hers, the smell of the papers from old rented books from the little library in town, a cup of black tea in hand, old music playing from the radio with silent noises of birds in the background. The soft smell of jasmine, peach and vanilla which takes me back to the moment when we were sitting on a wide flower meadow. If I close my eyes I can still feel the warm wind on my skin. The loud ticking from the big wooden clock behind us reminds me that the time is still going by and always takes me out of my daydreaming but this is nothing what I am sad about because when I open my eyes I am looking straight into her wonderful shimmering green eyes. Eyes like a hundred of stars, like the Caribbean ocean, like the sunrise in the morning.
I feel tears running down from my eyes and on my cheeks, they are like the soft little raindrops which are knocking silent on our window. I am loosing myself in the reflection of my own and in the water on the windowpane.

I am staring out and see the soft sunlight which breaks through the dark clouds. One side seems like a stormy restless ocean, the clouds moving like the raging waves which had bring down more I can even imagine. The other side is the picture of golden white light, soft shines which are breaking the darkness. They often lead us into the mornings, carry us through the hours and after a long day they are whispering us a soft goodbye.
Her and I is what I see when I am looking into the sky.

A gently touch from a soft warm hand on my cheek brings my thoughts back. Now I am realizing that she is not sitting there like before, she had straightens her body away from my chest and is looking at me. Again, the warm and soft touch on my cheeks which is now wipes away the small tears on my skin. My heart still makes little jumpers when she is touching my cheek like that. It still feels like someone took my breath away.