She sat there, every eventide when the empyrean was saffron, an amber tint; the xanthous color ebbing to the horizon as the night begged to resurrect. It wasn’t kalopsia, it was a cinematic array of events I dreamt for. Elysian Dreams. Ginger hair, bold and beautiful, she was the sandpaper to my tender soul, the antidote to my poisoned heart, poisoned with the daydreams decorated with her images. I was a thalassophile , she was the ocean I wanted to drown in.
Saudade, its been years, I still glance from the lunette to stare at an empty seat.
*written in response to Twittering Tale #33 Picture prompt.
Picture courtesy :-“Architecture” from Pixabay.com*