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The heart fills with desire, it wants what it wants
That which is attainable, that which is not, haunts
Leading us astray from what is acceptable
Into foreign lands so vulnerable, susceptible
Often a balance we seek between the two
Whispers of truth acknowledged, bid adieu
Follow our heart, follow our mind
Sometimes in neither, satisfaction find
Still flames of desire build and overcomes
Sensibility, longing, craving reality becomes
Until sated by desire’s passionate determination
That little slice of cake is our only salvation
Julie looked on through lowered lashes. The women couldn’t help themselves. He was delicious to look upon. Tall of stature, with blue eyes and black hair, a gentle sun kissed tan upon his face, he was debonnaire, suave, elegant and gentle with all the simpering idiots that came near. Even if watching him closely she’d noticed that microsecond of annoyance, they didn’t.
It scorched her. The wanting, the desire the yearning, yet knowing he was just out of reach, knowing he was just beyond her grasp. She longed to speak to him, tell him about her world, the world she envisioned, for him, them, together. Visions of them wantonly sharing intimacy reddened her face. Scorched. She felt scorched. Heated through every specter of her being.
All she needed was one look, one glance, and she was sure they would share their life together. Although she wasn’t on his plain of existence as yet, she would be. Her plan in motion, she smiled knowingly. Yes, he’d know of her all-consuming love shortly and their love would devour engulf enflame scorch both of them.
He glanced her way, once. It was enough. She pulled the device from her pocket and was about to click the button when from nowhere three men raced toward her and tackled her to the ground. The device flew from her hand and landed at his feet. Lifting hate filled eyes, staring directly at him she screamed, “NO!” The two men assisted her to her feet, holding her in an unforgiving grasp while the third picked the device up off the ground.
One of the men quietly but firmly stated, “It’s over, Julie. It’s over.”
He turned saddened, pained eyes in her direction. “You disgust me!” she yelled with a viscousness difficult to grasp. Surprised? This was unexpected? Didn’t think I’d follow through? How pitiable you are!
The undercover agents dragged her away. “Your intel was correct, Mr. Maverick. Sorry.” The agent dropped his eyes, then as he turned to walk away, looked back over his shoulder observing Moses Maverick and the look on his face, a mixture of sadness, pity, anger, even slight horror.
He felt scorched with the heat of her anger. What had possessed this woman to believe they could or would ever be together? He didn’t even know the woman. If Marlena hadn’t stumbled across her locker, seen what was inside, he’d never have known. He’d never even looked in her direction. He’d never have seen what she was. How had his judgment failed him on this one? For that matter, how had his intel failed? It seemed he’d have to take another look at the system currently in place.
Turning to walk away, his relief was complete. Had she gone through with her plan, she’d have taken half the building out and injured hundreds. A complexity beyond conception. He vowed to find the answers.
There’s a word! It encompasses so much! First thought to come to mind is the cravings of pregnancy which inevitably makes me smile, pickles and ice cream, to a variety of other foods.
However, we can crave great literature, art, music. Cravings of the soul. A feeling we will wither and die if we don’t receive a modicum of what we could describe as want need desire.
Whether what we crave is healthy or not, it has power. Clawing, determined unsettling power. If you’ve ever been in a position that you can’t determine what it is, and you try to fill that hole, that void with something, anything, thinking that it might mitigate that undefined hunger you soon realize the folly of your decision because the unanswered craving continues.