Writing Exercise

It was a simple yet magical night that started with a shy smile, and ended with a kiss....

A look across the room spotted a mystery, and a shy, sweet smile was given: a shadow throbbed under the lights, and the room swayed seductively in an air of licorice only lovers could taste.  The shy smile turned flirtatious: it was all that was needed to give the courage necessary to navigate the maze of endless bodies that moved to sound, responded to vibrations, jumped for joy; the need of wanting, the breath on hold in a moment of silence that nothing would go wrong, for belonging, was the promise of the night, the prized announced by the stars, though morning light would be judge and decide on its merit to last or die.

The eyes held onto that smile and the connection made the quest worthy of any danger, if such was to present itself.  The maze shifted and morphed with the rhythm of sights and sounds; a cacophony of declarations were made as lovers abound.  Some were sealed in more than whispers, pitches baritone and contralto; arias that would give pause to the tainted of heart.  Some would strive for things that would never be true; some would have the unfortunate outcome of being stillborn, but not the quest for the smile; not the foreseen eyes that spoke of the future, if only they were to be shown a bit of tenderness in a moment of doubt, which could and would make the conqueror the only one... if only.

Shadows throbbed in the lights, inebriated and feeling bold, scared of being cast off; yearning for solidity and a sense of self that was denied to them by their makers.  Unable to control themselves, they tensed and darkened the path of the conqueror, making the night cry, keeping the stars from handing over the prize.  The smile faded away, and what was left of it, a witch turned into a pulpy drop of blood meant to stain the morning light, and let the new day know, all... it was lost.  The endless bodies parted ways and said their goodbyes, the maze grew pale and a ghost frightened it into a coma never to wake up from.  The shadows imbibe some more in the neons they thought were gold, and were never aware of the shimmer they took from the sky, leaving the world to wander without guidance.  The throbbing lights, blind and unaware of the weight of tragedy, washed down the still body of the would-be conqueror as a kiss bid his eyes goodbye.