He sat there, back arched, staring at his messy handwriting on a notebook that’s been barely written on. Procrastination is his cancer. And he can’t seem to find it’s cure. Well, cancer has no cure. But still…

“Shit!” he muttered under his breath. “I give up,” he thought. He sighed, leaned back to his chair, and saw her. She sat there, across him, back arched, right hand perching on the mouse, eyes focused on her 14-inch laptop screen, looking for insecurities. A smile crept up on his face. Leaning forward, he quickly scribbled on his notebook, hands dancing to the rhythm of his fluttering heartbeat.

His cancer is now at bay. She is his chemo. But he hopes someday, she becomes his miracle cure.

Legs crossed, back arched, eyes focused on the screen. She sits there, her hand embracing the mouse, scrolling through her Facebook page, searching for insecurities, looking at other girls wishing she had what they had. But, she doesn’t have to be insecure. She’s…ugh! It’s too difficult to describe her, because I’m afraid my description would degrade her beauty. Let me just tell you how I feel, then, when I look at her, or see her in my mind’s eye, or dream of her. I feel my heart fluttering frantically in its cage! Like it wants to go out and fly to her. I feel creatures in my stomach. Creatures that were long gone, like dinosaurs and extinct insects. Her beauty awakened them. I hope she sees just how her beauty makes me insane, makes me feel a plethora of wonderful emotions, all clashing together at once! But, no! She just sits there, legs crossed, back arched, eyes focused on the screen, looking for insecurities.

By Kaye Lastimosa

Dancing Morphemes

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