MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry

30/07/2013

30/07/2013

Entering the train station sort of felt like entering

a n o t h e r w o r l d —

a world of marble cast under a rosy glow with busy bodies passing

left

and

right.

There was an unspoken hurriedness in the atmosphere,

which Gemma would normally dislike,

but today it felt

e x c i t i n g

and so she let it wash over her like mist sprouting from a waterfall.

It was, after all, her first time travelling by train.

The entire experience excited her.

She wandered around the station while he bought their tickets.

She wondered how old the building was,

staring at the solid marble pillars which dominated the main room.

It was made up of ticket windows, lines of people

and a significantly grandiose entrance.

When they stepped out to board the train, the air felt hot and she welcomed it though

it felt thick in her lungs,

like breathing in the steam from a hot shower.

The wind brought a slight chill that made her cross her arms and shiver under her sweater

when she felt a warm pair of arms fold themselves around her.

She breathed a sigh of bliss and relief before closing her eyes as she felt the heat

from Caleb’s body

radiate outward and felt her own body absorb it with

unswerving wanting.

In

and

out,

her breath slowed and she opened her eyes to a half covered sun in the sky.

It didn’t take long for their train to board.

When she settled herself in her seat,

she had her camera placed on the empty seat beside her

and her favourite book of poetry on her lap.

She watched as the strangers boarding the same train settled in their own seats around her

and was disappointed in finding frowns on every face.

Nobody seemed to be feeling the subtle hint of

m a g i c

hanging in the air all around,

or even delight in the beauty of that day.

She didn’t let it bother her though, her inner optimism was at an extreme high that day and

when these good days happened, she took advantage of them.

The train soon left the station and began its journey

out of the city and into the outer uncultivated forests

and charmingly aged tiny towns.

She decided not to pick up her book and instead, stare out the window.

Through the mirage of trees in the window,

his reflection caught the light just perfectly enough

that she could look on without him noticing.

She considered it one of her favourite pass times,

as she could stare at him

e n d l e s s l y

and never tire

of the way he moves.

She loved how the sunlight played with his brown hair,

adding

glowing golden

tones throughout.

She loved his dark, thick eye-brows…

currently frowning over the book he had before him.

His full eyelashes peaked downward so that they covered his almond shaped eyes.

His nose was pointed and sharp to match his equally exquisite cheek bones which always

gave him an air of nobility.

It was his mouth, however, that she considered his most captivating feature.

His lips were full and the color of ripe raspberries in the summer-time;

they curved beautifully over his teeth and even arched when he lifted them upward

to give the loveliest sideway smile.

Almost as though he could sense her

peering at him through his fading reflection in the window,

he lifted his head from the book he was reading

to look at her with raised eyebrows and a smile.

She was looking straight at him now,

unable to stop her own mouth from curling upward

at the sight of him.

“What is it?”

He asked.

She just shook her head and opened the book on her lap,

“nothing.”

She answered while wondering how her life had spun itself into poetry

that was better than anything she could ever read in a book.

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