the graphite tip of my pencil dragged violently across the awaiting white sheet of paper, receiving my thoughts, containing an outpouring of inspiration. a few rapid strokes later, familiar forms began to emerge, a head, an arm, a tensed deltoid. sinuous lines later gave sight to strong thighs terminating to a graceful foot. i drew to my heart's delight, taking careful measure onto the features i loved the most, the jaw, the gentle arch of the back, the smooth curves of an expressive arm, the subtle striations of muscles in movement. i drew him down quick, before my juices became depleted, before this beautiful vision of man vanish once again to the deep recesses of my memory.
i looked at him intently, allowing myself this moment of simple adoration, marveling at the lines created, amazed as to how great the works God had done.
* * * * *
i looked at him intently, through my discerning eye, and watched and scrutinized the features i loved the most, the jaw, the angle of the nose, the gentle cropped slope of his haircut, the texture of his smooth creamy skin. i took notice of his composure, how he walked, how he sat, how he fidgeted in his discomfort, how he feigned to show nonchalance. he was lively, he was funny, he loved to receive attention. his vibrancy was most palpable, evident through how he conducted his movements with much gusto, unmindful of how seemingly foolish they may be. he however felt lost, to a degree, unsure, but compensates with an unfounded hope, maybe even charged with the prospects of unrealized adventure. ah, the quickening feeling of the young, how attractive.
his smile is enchanting, and his gaze, what bliss must it be to find yourself lost in that stare. there is a certain elegance to this
other one. though not as lively and not as young, his quiet disposition adds a sensual mystery to his person. he carries himself casually, not too serious to be stiff, yet not too loose to be tactless. he emanates a sense of balance, a calculated steadiness, an almost psychic symmetry. ironically, his equilibrium makes you distrustful, almost guarded against an unidentified danger. he sat in his seat, cool and calm, a common observer to some, but maybe a stalking predator underneath, you really cannot tell, and i guess, he liked it to be that way... and so did i.
i smiled the moment i saw
him. the inner child in me wanted to leap in glee for how could you not feel joy when all about him, it seems, is just that, pure joy. to smile would simply be an effect to a most unobjectionable cause. my skin braced itself as i threw affection towards him, the kind you offer to a well beloved, and he readily returned it with an equal tenderness. i glow in his presence, like the moon reflecting the shine of the sun. his countenance is an intoxicating brew of all things happy, the ingredients of which stretch from summer squirrels playing in the grass to the charged spray of the ocean surf as it crashes upon a jagged cliff face. there is mischief in his voice and sincerity in his touch. how beautiful he truly is, even a blind person can testify.
* * * * *
with great appreciation, i render them onto my imaginary man, give life to attributes with each pencil stroke, thanking in turn my God, that i could be a witness to His great handiwork.
