Ophelia found herself crossing a road filled with lifted spirits. She smiled, to ensure her peers would accept her presence as amiable and equally radiant. Smiling was easy you see, until she collided with the Magus, who happened to be crossing the road that very morning. He froze, baffled at the universe’s treachery. For he had taken every course to avoid the delicious perfume of a soulmate’s lust. He took a step forward in reflex – friends, you cannot fight the gravitational pull between souls that have been torn away in polar opposites. The Magus could see the soft blue light above Ophelia’s left shoulder but fear clouds judgement like oil floating above water…
Magus: Ophelia, I
Ophelia: No,
I cannot look in his eyes
because yours are the ones
I crave.
He is everything I should want,
yet my mind is occupied with you.
Magus: But I,
Ophelia: No,
I don’t mean you are not…
everything
I don’t know what you are.
Magus: Ophelia, I am
Ophelia: No,
I know him.
I trust him.
You never let me.
Magus: I want to
Ophelia: Darling,
All I have is a memory of your face,
the touch of your fingers
the thrust…
the blush…
the rush…
All I want is to hear your voice,
To laugh at your jokes,
to lose myself daydreaming,
to live carelessly,
to be who we are
without fear of disappointing.
You are my freedom.