|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Sight in loveOne of the most important senses for a human is sight.
We look around us, we see and we interpret.
Whatever passes in front of us is sent to our brain to collect and start the analysis of the surrounding.
That's how you know you have a wall you're about to bump into so you move aside.
That's how you know when you need to jump above an obstacle or dodge a ball.
Now, in love, things work a little bit differently.
Human hearts, when they start to see, they start collecting information concerning emotions.
Everybody can see an act of kindness; everybody can observe and tell 'oh these two care so much for each other'
The problem is with the people in love themselves.
"Love turns people blind" did not just come out of nothing.
The thing is, when people fall in love, they forget they need to look through their eyes as much as their hearts.
Hearts are weak as much as strong. They give a tremendous force into whatever the person focuses on.
If a person feels a little bit insecure
People and the HeartIn your life, you pass among a lot of people.
Crowds and crowds.
Some of them head to your heart directly. You call those friends.
Those same people who manage to go behind your ribcage and find your heart.
Another type of people, are the people who go right to your brain. You call those companions. Because they went right through your skull seeking improvement or information.
A third type, those who want to go into every part. Those who want to dig deep in your cells.
That kind of people who want to be circulating into everything with your blood stream eventually your heart.
That kind of people, the rare one, know that your heart is too sealed. That it needs a key.
But for some reason you broke the key long long time ago.
They wanted another way in.
They're smart. And they are really trying.
They go into your bones, into your nerves, into your spine.
They become your blood cells.
Even when you breathe they know it.
When you cry, they can tell.
And they go straight into your hea
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
Keep in Touch!