She was my waitress. I had just had some lunch and a drink. I obviously knew almost no Polish. Maybe it was funny when I said the odd word, maybe they all spoke English and found me useless. She was really cute. She had this long blonde hair, tied back tightly, sweet features. Her hair fell down the upper part of her back like effortless hay. I liked the way she looked and the way she smiled at me. Her t-shirt and waitresses apron fit her perfectly. She was delicate on my eyes, had a nice charm, like she might be a good soul. I had a happy feeling, fulfilled each time she passed me by, sometimes giving one of those friendly smiles.
I was in Wonderland. I was part of it now. I had the surroundings of my dreams as the daily fabric of my existence now. This woman was there too. Now, maybe beyond this moment as well. I would like to come back here, see her face again, though I could take it with me when I leave shortly. All the little moments, so pretty and special, flapping around like a newborn chick misunderstanding its wings, soon finding space and reason and explanation. She was gorgeous. She was Wonderland. I live here now. Holding hands with it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment