Sky-blue flower

I remember that first kiss of ours like a sweet mistake we didn't want, nor couldn't avoid.

I remember how your hair did shine, like flames below the sun of Aman.

I remember the way your eyes, descendant orbs from the blue sky of peaceful days, did look at me... like if I were the only one, indispensable for you.

I remember that day, that afternoon, because it was only ours. We went to ride together, stopping to admire the green meadows, the wide woods with their exuberant trees. We left our horses pasturing calmly at one field of those, entering ourselves into the forest. We lay on the grass, weaving of everything. You touched gently the petals of a sky-blue coloured flower with your fingers, your gaze was lost, distant, immersed in that delicate form of expression of the nature. However, I did contemplate your hair; Swaying in the breeze, it looked as it was fire, burning everything around it, indomitable. I did look up your naked torso, asking myself if someone so beautiful as you will ever exist, if it was a delusion of the flighty providence. I looked elsewhere, not being able to hold so much beauty during a large period of time which was, perhaps, just some seconds. That evening I totally lost every sense of time. We expent a lot of time in silence, for we liked to do so when we were together. I closed my eyes, letting the air caress my face, dreaming of your touch being the one doing it. When I opened them again, you were there, closer to me, discreet as your used to be. I didn't move, but you placed yourself by my side, leaning forward my face. I will never know if I did actually whisper your name for you to hear me, or I did only think it, muttered it inside my mind, like the title of the most wonderful lovesong. Our lips were ice, melting the ones into the spirited hot of the others. I did rest my hand on your waist, while you caressed my check, then my hair, naughtily undoing the golden ribbons I'm used to wear.

We walked back, holding the reins of our horses, side by side, sharing furtive glances, being them the same as always. Nothing really changed that evening... I just wore a sky-blue coloured flower on my hair, and you tied a golden ribbon to your wrist.