Rapt Absorption

Daniela De Vera captures a moonlit night and the quiet yearning to be cherished like the moon.

He traced the space between my thumb and pointer finger, an absence between the knuckles, a web of skin. He traced it knowingly, though I’m not too sure what it was, like he knew something I did not. He occupied that space for a little while like a map he knew, a route he took everyday. 

We were doing nothing.

He continued his venture on the back of my hand as I talked about nothing. With intent he listened, but was he really there? I’m not too sure. His thoughts lay elsewhere, as if his mind was on his thumb, scavenging the familiar avenue of freckles and veins. Regardless, I continued, not too sure what discourse of conversation was spilling out of my mouth, but I let him continue his thoughtless action in pursuit of a thoughtful resolution.

The tickle of grass grew to an uneven cushion beneath us, the faint moist of the earth seeping into our clothes. It was night, the moon shedding its light to litter among the small waves of the river in front of us, creating a kaleidoscope of blue and white. Close by, a few other people speckled the grass watching in meditation of this phenomena, their soft murmurs carried by the evening wind.

I said that the moon was pretty, he didn’t look up. His attention elsewhere, though I felt the burning sensation of his eyes.

The traces came to a halt.

He was examining my face now. Insecurity crept up my cheeks as various flaws in my vanity became apparent in the forefront of my thoughts. His search for something in my features metamorphosed into an investigation in the crevices of my scars and pores. Lost in an inaudible translation, I turned my face away and told him how I hated when his stares would prolong the average, elaborating that if he stared for too long he would come to realise that I was ugly. His reassurance gave me none as I wallowed in the waters of my rumination. 

The sentences paused and the words fell short; maybe he deciphered the expression in my expressionless state — I’m not too sure. I turned and he was looking up at her, a familiarity in his look, a slight pull up in the corners of his mouth, eyes softened with faint smile lines. I made a silent wish that night for him to look at me as he did with her, that maybe if I was the moon — regardless of my phases — I would remain a force to be admired and loved.