You can no longer feel saudade, for your lover has never truly existed.
You hold her hand, led by him, your steps twirling together with zirs, turning, spinning. You go nowhere, because you do not want to go, cannot go, are unable to go.
The palm is soft and damp, warmed by your grasp, which tightens a bit. You hold your breath, breathing slowly, so slowly that the rhythm of the music seems hurried. Yet you dare not let go, dare not disturb, dare not disrupt the dance.
The skirt spins, skimming your ankle; the fabric rubs, the melody twirling along. The hair whirls, brushing your neck, with a tickling touch, your heartbeat quickening, fleetingly. The scene spins, you hold that hand, the hug grows closer, the faint breath on your lips, a whisper of breeze, the scent of the night grows rich and deep.
Night has fallen. You think vaguely, thoughts wandering to a distant place.
Two petals, deep red, quivering gently. There is wind. There is music. From a far-off place, vibrations resonate. You spin and spin. The night sky above you spins too. One more song, please. The dance has not stopped. You cling to the arm of reluctance. What is swaying? Tilting your head, countless points of light descend in a cascade. You wish to hear. You wish to read. You wish to know. Someone is speaking. You are speaking.
… Wake…
… Wake up.
Wake up. I cannot dream of you.
Cite this page as:
"saudade serenade" written by Esperanza_Cai, translated by la kanro, from SCP International. Source: https://scpint.org/saudade-serenade. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.
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Licensing Disclosures
Filename: dance.gif
Name: Man and woman dancing a waltz
Author: Muybridge, Eadweard, 1830-1904
License: Public Domain
Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Man_and_woman_dancing_a_waltz_(rbm-QP301M8-1887-197).jpg
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