Fabiola

Fabiola

Now nothing remains the same
Your name came to me late in the midnight hour, brought back the canvas of your perfect body, your kind smile and your beautiful face. Your name, Fabiola.
Made me wish and want for the things, I could not have.

I taught you how to drive on the California highway one in the Winter of 1992 and I remember you holding my hand tightly. Your eyes filled with excitement and so content with the feel of the car and the road.

 
You knew I loved you from the first time I saw you. I would create places and time for us to talk. You told me often, you don’t want me. I’m damaged and afraid, I’m waiting for something gone and cannot love.

 
Love find places in secret valleys and hidden places. Locked doors open for a secret seconds. We went to Big Sur often. I would sing songs to her, to make her laugh and smile. She wanted to forget and to laugh.

 
“Fabiola, Fabiola, Fabiola. My beloved, let drink wine at the River Inn and dance freely upon the Big Sur sand. ”

 
I brought a sleeping bag and she held me tightly watching the sun fall into the west at the Big Sur beach. She whispered to me, now nothing remains the same. When love turned to a wild storm than fall back to quiet stream. The body yearn for more.
We took many field trips and I made her dance and sing with.

My dear Fabiola, I left you in the Summer of 1994. She did find love and I have my portraits of a beautiful woman with dark brown eyes who made me dream of a wild and free love. I learn love is not fair.
Need two people with the same needs.

 
John Castellenas/Coyote