unexpected intrusions of beauty
And there it is.
That touch of sadness, drifting close enough to brush against her skin, lighting up her senses, but too far to catch, to capture in the light. In that ephemeral moment, though, she can see herself leaving, walking away. Maybe it’ll be in a few weeks, maybe months, maybe even years – what’s certain is that she’ll leave. One day, she’ll drift off, solitary figure lost in a dust-cloaked sunset just like today’s.
They won’t understand. Sure, they’ll paste paper smiles onto their faces, plastic sympathy and confusion in their voices as they say well, I hope you find what you’re searching for. She’ll watch the paper crumple and plastic tear when she laughs, shakes her head, walks away. They don’t understand that the point isn’t to find, it’s to search. They don’t understand the magic in the landscape of a new city, the electricity in watching half-light silhouettes and uncertain streets unfold in front of her. They don’t understand that familiarity makes her feel safe, but secrets capture her heart, light her up and leave her dizzy and exhilarated.
Maybe one day, she’ll leave her wanderlust behind in a worn, frayed town – trapped under a mattress, behind a bottle of Moscato d’Asti, in a taxicab ripe with the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. The next day, she’ll wake up and find herself exhausted instead of invigorated, tired of new skylines and city lights.
Today, though, she walks into the dust-cloaked sunset and feels the magic spark through her veins.