From far away, bruscamente
is the word that comes to mind. The pace is quick, the shoes don’t match a
standard color, and if something fierce appears on the horizon, it might be her or another Indonesian tsunami.
Getting closer, we notice perfect teeth, expertly-applied
makeup, and earrings matching the blouse (ah, the shoes weren’t accidental).
Even then, it’s not until my hands become baby spianato and my gait mysteriously shifts from a capriccio to sostenuto adagietto that I realize I'm listening to a concerto I’ll never forget.
If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll manage to get even closer, but by then,
it’ll be too late: you’re in an orbit that will ground satellites with
a mere smile, bring you into her gravitational pull and, if you’re even
luckier, never let you go.
© Matthew Rafat (August 2018)
No comments:
Post a Comment