Lovers at a Crossroads

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Him:

He wants to be free but doesn’t know how and the struggle is in the seeking, the suffering is in the now when he longs for the kiss of the woman he desires, but the shadow of another leaves him feeling like a liar. He’s a man living in the spaces between each breath, trying so hard to know himself, and no matter how much he wants another life, he’ll stay in this place that gives him such strife. He must resign himself now to the truth of this path, ‘tis as simple as a problem found in first-grade math.

 

Her:

She can’t be his plaything, for she’s a woman of flesh and bone, with a heart that beats pure behind a wall of solid stone. She’s a need for a man who knows how to break clean thru, expose her, make her vulnerable – none of which he cares to do. As sad as it makes her she’ll say goodbye, for she’s got to live her truth and not this battered lie. They both knew this moment would come anyway, may as well make it now, may as well be today.

 

 

 

photo credit: <a href=”https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcelyne/2515487161/”>marceline</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

Sass In the Satin

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I’m not often caught by surprise, used to be common til I

Drowned in men’s lies, and then you appeared before me

Like a cloud across the sky, better keep moving lest you

Get caught by surprise; see this Southern belle as a quest

You need to con, or fall for her completely…wouldn’t

That be fun? Oh geez don’t let my bud catch any of

Your dew, for the heart squeezes tight when it

Considers me and you; berries on the bush, yes

The temptation is one for the ages, whispering

“Live your truth” are the voices of the sages; and

We shall surely dance around this rhythm we

Know; marionettes flail their arms and legs

As we clap for the show; gentle is the touch,

Sweet your very taste, lustful on the vine,

Your hands are full of grace. Throw caution

To the Wind, let your freedom find a trail,

No justification needed when you

Set that final sail. This is but a rhyme,

Don’t be so morose, figure a bag of candy

Is sweeter than your prose, and just as I have you,

You’d surely take flight, as a bird with healed

Wings after a grounded fortnight.

 

photo credit: <a href=”https://www.flickr.com/photos/paloetic/4576171463/”>paloetic</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

Beer and Napkins

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Shy guy with the soft smile and gentle eyes,

She found herself in that awkward place where

The gaze floats unintentionally, holding

Brief moments of curiosity and attraction,

Belly flutters and the wonders of discovery

Flavor the air like honeysuckle in bloom,

One drop of its sweetness desired…

He inspires with a gentle kiss and a whispered

Hunger to feel the rhythm she moves to; oh yes,

They will dance

Over a Glass of Red

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Eager is the night, stars’ egos on display,

(Shhh…their charm lies in their confidence)

Anticipation heats the space between reaching hands

You speak, and your words are golden streams,

Heard as a blur as I watch your lips with need;

I know your kiss, as you do mine

The waiting is torture, but exquisite, I’m sipping

The moments like you do your glass of wine

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/kubina/153871205/”>Jeff Kubina</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

 

Tangential Elements

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A little prose for the day…and truly tangential for I was heading in a completely different direction when I began to peck at the keys today.

She wonders if he knows the strength of his spirit, for it surges across the landscape like a river seeking a path, cutting its way through difficult terrain. She admires him, reveres him for keeping his course through suffering. Would be easy for him to give up, accept his lot in life, but his light shines, and she has been soothed by its warmth and for that she is grateful. She has found freedom in his kind of love – not one of superficial promises or declarations, or false assumptions of “more.” Instead, they move in the deeper waters of life’s ocean, where the open heart of the universe embraces their need and want and desire without judgment. He is, at once, complicated and simplistic, and she dances with both sides of him without missing a beat because she has been moving to the same rhythm her entire life. Theirs is an intimacy of understanding, likemindedness and dreams. Deep thought and exploration for truth and meaning suffers him to write. Seeking to understand the dark places of the heart propels her ramblings. Their pens both strike the paper not to share some wisdom from within but instead in an effort of hopefulness, in order to discover that which lies within the vibrations of life. They never reach for an umbrella when the words begin to fall like rain. Instead, they lift their heads and open their arms and get soaked.

Sweet Nothing

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There is a space between us,

Where time and life exists

Words run thru like current,

The charge felt within the flesh

Distance is a pencil, miles recorded in smudging graphite

Could they be erased, you’d be here tonight

Thoughtless as spilled sugar around our coffee cups,

We’ve no mind to hurry, there’ll be time for us

As a bird spreads its wings, we shall soon fly

Soar across the vast expanse, a place for you and I

Even if the space between is filled with empty breaths,

Even if we are encumbered by certain circumstance,

Temper the grin that has surely formed,

Let silent lips utter happy sighs

Dream your fantasies and hold them close

You cling to yours and I’ll cling to mine

 

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/shazlypics/2744672501/”>A.Shazly</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

The Quiet Places

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We came together in the quiet places, those that allow the

Echo of birds’ voices to resonate across the field,

Those that allow the drip, drip of rain to plop onto a metal roof,

Where sun porches are a necessity and tea glasses are kept filled;

We lay, spent, in the afternoon and the evening time,

Our own hushed voices only that above a whisper;

Our conversations drifting from the silly to the desperate,

From those whom we have loved to love unreturned,

There, we found ourselves examining the motivations and

Asking those questions of one another we cannot ask of them;

The answers limited, the answers exaggerated by our bent

Perceptions and nothing was accomplished but for the

Release of passion between two lonely hearts

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/zedzap/4664908938/”>Nick Kenrick .</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;