That Desirable Attraction: The Discipline Before the Eyes of Hundreds
Did I fall out of it? No, and I will never fall out of this one.
Was it at first sight? I guess so. We laid eyes for the first time in the most casual way, playing songs and walking around in a cold room.
Then came the question of age; I told mine and asked the same. I was standing on the left, and I put my hand across to the right shoulder.
I guess it became uncomfortable since the eyes that lay were never so stable in the first place. Perhaps it was nervousness.
Body turned, and my palm that was still grasping the shoulder slowly brought its way to reach the neck through the clavicle.
It ended, but I followed the traces that were left with blushing smiles.
The next day, I cleared the way for us to meet again the other day.
I tried finding the right dress code and fragrance to hopefully catch a glance again, but none of the scents was enough to please my nose.
The following day was fateful; we were assigned to attend the same place, and every time I chanced upon the stares, the eyes pretended to float elsewhere.
"How cute..." I said to myself.
But then, my hellos were ignored, and we pretended to stand still like sticks.
But that feeling still couldn't be thrown off.
We still found ourselves standing before one another countless times that day, and my daring self couldn't help but wrap my arm around the back and hold that shoulder again.
Neither of us tried to signal otherwise; it was like a discreet 'affair' before the eyes of hundreds, and we went along as we wished to interpret, with respect.
Every close breath was decorated with apologies and smiles to charm the bright sun, and I still and will forever keep those two portraits captured in awkwardness.
There was no conclusion to this chapter.
No parting, no sadness, no heartbreak.
We liked each other; we both know it and are open about it. But again, we are alike.
We have mutual respect as adults, and we prefer it to be this way. Nothing sad, nothing to cry about, just adults understanding the rules and being respectful, and a reminder of what I stand for.
Like was a thing, but love was another.
I had always been the kid who grew up too fast, as quick as I was when I was born, premature, and was expected to be strong.
I lost my way to live life as I should. I have grown to forget my recent younger days, and every time I get a glimpse of it, I'd say to myself, "What nostalgia...", and almost no part of my chapters has ever been relaxed, despite what people may think.
But this person's ways just made me breathe and remember that I am indeed still young.
The songs I used to listen to were played again, the hopeless romantic lyrics were relatable, and the soft-spoken speech and smile were just as charming as I saw in the mirrors.
Very proper, very disciplined, very calm, and very warm, yet very refreshing. Something that I had always looked for and have developed myself to be lenient toward.
Did I fall in love? Yes, but am I in a relationship? No, and I'm okay with that, because we can't be together due to ethics and professionalism, and I like it.
I like it when people have discipline and integrity. Very firm and secure.
Over the years, I've been too used to refining my warm, and sometimes heaty oud fragrances, but I guess it's just, if not even more charming, to have cool citrus water on the vanity to be worn and loved.
It's very satisfying to finally meet someone with mutual interests, but nothing sexual.
It's hard to find someone who likes me and has me liking them back; that's one.
It's also not easy to find people with good characteristics.
Most people would see me as an object and would want to do things to me. Some would only care about the way another person dresses and looks, and some would only think about money and perks.
A true breeze of another dimension.
I am still my own person, still ‘dramatic’ with my Desirable Addiction perfume, but I have finally found the balance I had been longing for — the quiet love of musk, sea salt, and jasmine behind the known and misunderstood lust of tobacco, sandalwood, and vanilla.
MY GLOOMY WOODY NOTES
From eyes and tunes in the cold room to the warmth of our skin touching, bridged by smirks.
I felt your veins and bones, and you had my fingers on your right shoulder and neck, crawling to your ears.
I went along to find that Miami blues of your shirt, and looked high and low for the perfect scents to grasp your nose - to bring your citrus closer to my ouds.
But as it turns out, our bodies could never be.
Despite the name peers, and the charming smiles we exchanged...
The formalities rule us to be estranged.
As woody as my perfumes are, our bodies could only remain as sticks...
For our eyes are not allowed to wear the shades of rich amber and chocolate, just plain grey as the gloomy clouds before the storms arrive.
Your tones linger in my ears, and as for my palm, it shall forever hold your clavicle in form.
That photo we had taken in the bright sun, I shall keep in the frames of my mind as I remember the only person who had successfully brought my pride down to the ground.
If ever I were to blast my woodiness to anyone else, I believe that it would be a vinyl in disguise like the table in my hostel, for I had fallen in top notes for someone whom I can never be with.
Qadeem Zieman
YOU KNOW YOU LOVE THAT SOMEONE WHEN...
When you find his presence not as a figure, but as a
catalyst…
When you hear his voice not as a big band, nor as a symphony…
But as a whisper of calmness.
When you don’t yearn for his eyes because you’ve got it engraved against your iris like a tattoo retraced every time it dries up.
When you don’t match his breeze, and he doesn’t
match your wave, yet you find each other on the beach, walking on the gritty
sands.
When you yearn for his musk, and he yearns for your wood, yet you both are at peace with the scents of your own bodies.
And when you want him not on the bed, but under the sheet next to the window, watching the raindrops fall in the dark room…
With your hands free to touch his shoulders, rub his neck, and bring your fingers to feel the heated breath from your jaws.
When you don’t have a vision of what the bones hold, because you already know what goes beyond the skin.
And you put your heart on hold to wait for him,
because you know that there’ll never be another one who could make you feel
that desire more than him.
But you don’t mind letting him go because the relief of finally meeting someone like him makes up for the years of searching, and fulfilled even more decades of longing.
That is how you know you love that someone.
And sometimes…
Under the hot, burning sun, you’d get your feet frozen cold to utter the words to say how much he means to you.
When you hear his voice not as a big band, nor as a symphony…
But as a whisper of calmness.
When you don’t yearn for his eyes because you’ve got it engraved against your iris like a tattoo retraced every time it dries up.
When you yearn for his musk, and he yearns for your wood, yet you both are at peace with the scents of your own bodies.
And when you want him not on the bed, but under the sheet next to the window, watching the raindrops fall in the dark room…
With your hands free to touch his shoulders, rub his neck, and bring your fingers to feel the heated breath from your jaws.
When you don’t have a vision of what the bones hold, because you already know what goes beyond the skin.
But you don’t mind letting him go because the relief of finally meeting someone like him makes up for the years of searching, and fulfilled even more decades of longing.
And sometimes…
Under the hot, burning sun, you’d get your feet frozen cold to utter the words to say how much he means to you.
