Eámanë looked Fingolfin in the eye long and hard, and told him “Everything I ask about, you manage to answer in rhetoric and metaphor. Everything surpasses me- the depth and height of your love surpasses all that matters to me.” Fingolfin stared back at Eámanë's face and replied “You surpass me”, with a blush he could have assured her was redder than the sun, and redder still than her lips, or her love. Eámanë left Fingolfin's arms, pacing under the tree's shade where they rested, irked and looking disgustedly at her lover.
“You cannot compare yourself to what is divine,” replied Fingolfin. “You are a mortal, and will never surpass these things, as I won't either. That is the way of the world.”
“If I cannot surpass it, then what can I surpass? My friends are all naïve and simpleminded. But I feel the shimmering stars lure me, calling me to join their fold. I feel the fragrant flowers pull me, calling me to join their patch. Why am I myself, that cannot surpass anything?”
Fingolfin, who wasn't as wise as he would have wanted to be, cleared his throat, and replied while getting up as well, “That is a question many might ask, and never find the answer to.”
Eámanë bit her lip, and frowned at Fingolfin.
“I'm sure there have been plenty before you, or before me; in the end of the day it's not so terrible, this existence. But it's all a matter of what you will settle for.”
“That is terrible! I wish to learn the meaning of life, I wish to learn everything and surpass whatever comes my way.”
“It's not a matter of happiness, when all is said and done. Love is vital and the only thing that, for us, will have any meaning- good or bad. You should embrace its splendor, the grand heights and depths we mortals cannot reach. It's the only peace we will ever find. It will give us strength when we need it, and the will to do extremely difficult things for it.”
And so Fingolfin and Eámanë returned to their place under the tree, in each other's embrace, and Eámanë no longer felt inferior- she only felt separate, from her friends, because she began to understand the magnificence of love.
“Fingolfin, how much do you love me?”
By The Anarchist Kitten
A tinted reflection on the glass cover of a microwave
You were like a smile drawn
out on a bucket of quiet water
Still yet relentless, and solemnly fading;
Like strangers we smiled, like strangers we walked past
Our eyelashes glancing, our necks urging to turn;
at times they did; but more often they remained
afraid of not knowing what to say, and what not to say.
You remain as a tinted reflection on the glass cover of a microwave
as I walk towards your leisured shoulders,
your pupils slowly dilating, your hair swiftly turning
when my fingers barely curve to a wave, and your lips ripple to a smile.
You remain as un-braided hair flushing through white window shutters,
as well-dressed eyes shadowed by washed out cardinal-dyed hair;
You remain as adored quickening heart beats and smiles with stuttering words,
and a person who stumbles a dent on my lower face, half faded
much like a smile drawn out on a bucket of quiet water.
By Adnan M. S. Fakir
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