Love Story
Destined to feel. To love. Reality is more then can be seen with closed eyes. Unfolding, flowing, she was ready to see, she could always feel.
"Sana is not of this world" - or so they said, - "Sana is not interested in men."
She dreamed of a man, but never saw one in real life. Not yet.
Those, that were called men, she didn't let close. They would have to look from a far. Want her from a far. Beautiful and intelligent, she left a trace of femininity behind her. The smell of it, the feel of it.
She was looking for Him, she was dreaming about Him. Not just a man - real being. To be fully, and never stop.
Summers, warm, lucid nights. Moonlight and air breeze in the open room. She sleeps outside. All colors soft and solid, the outlines are evident even in the deep dark. Lying in her bed and looking at the stars. Her standards are very high. She calls for him.
Winters, snow falling in a frozen time. Day or night, dark or light. It is gentle music. Talking, talking, talking. With every fall of every snow-flake.
She is an open flower. She is ready to receive. Yet not exposed. She is untouchable, unreachable. She is a virgin in body and soul.
The body so sensitive, every move so sensual. She touches herself, sleeps in silk, walks in beautiful long dresses. Other girls say she is conservative, but they are not women, how would they know? Her clothes are ornaments, they surround, beautify her body. And when she is naked, her hair, dark and deep, run over rich white skin. Those are her real clothes, light and revealing.
She is a true woman. Not a girl, even though she is still a virgin. Perfect, but not fulfilled. To be always covered in sweetness, to feel thin threads of sensuality going through all things, filling up all space, air. What people say is true - she is in her own world. The Real world. She can only be with a Real man.
She meets him and already she is in him. He is wearing a mask, slowly it peels off. He needs it no more. His face is beautiful, his soul is real. Hands, white, hypnotizing, touch her. For the first time she is at home. Falling so deep, safe. No more borders, no limits. Never could be.
Real love. One soul. One body. Rich and sensual. Lustful, gentle, cruel, demanding.
She surrenders. Oh, how happy she is finally to submit, to completely let go. She is the ocean. She is his, to own, to take, to hurt and to enjoy. He is her master, her being.
They are always together. They are already connected. Swimming in one another, shedding shells that they didn't even know existed. The pain and beauty of space glowing in clear flames. Sinking.
So strong, the orbits are unchangeable. The universe is eternal.
[Oksana Murphenko, Brussels, 2000]
