sat outside for a bit,
the evening
said good-bye,
a trying week
left behind.
I wasn’t alone
as the rain spat
gaining strength,
I met it
covering my face
go ahead – yours.
I succumbed
released my control again
my breath slowing, and
found I wasn’t alone.
She was with me,
taunting me with her ability
to pose, for him.
It’s petals laying crossways,
My grandmother always said,
Notice their ruffled beauty,
Across the body, throughout her head.
The heart will lead us,
Paths rarely fond easy, and
With moments of dread.
However, trust
You’ll make it through,
The alternative is dead.
It was always okay
For me to be me
To tend to others
And giggle like i was free
It was always a good time
If i intently gave my attention
To those surrounding
Eager for affection
The smile i offered
It was always a lie
Unseen; no one who mattered
Tied up inside
if bound
she is, because
she wants to be. Or
is she just that afraid
of abandonment, again.
lights dim
touch bruises,
safety vanished
air: no movement
continuing to reign
over what is no more
reinforces suffering.
alone, but no longer yours
She’ll wonder how
Many hairs are grey
If your heartbeat
Feels the same.
Consider the new
Wrinkle by her eye,
And which stress
It was cause by.
Crisp morning air
Will cause her
Red curls to dance,
Would it affect
You, by chance?
First blush will arise
Around her,
Comforts of home:
Ground, she clings to.
Simple house shoes, worn
Her toes content
Ankles exposed.
Behind fawn wool,
A woman’s desire shown.
Frozen concrete steps
She sits upon gracefully
Allows for silence,
Awakening a quiet
Reflective dawn;
Her serenity.
Each timed breath,
Causes movement
Beneath her
Heaving breasts,
Proving control:
A lady’s weakness.
Yet you’re aware,
Her day has begun
And still,
She’ll want, require
The comfort
Of you,
Her Eastern Sun.
Talk by way of fireflies,
insistant lights
dancing off the water,
flickering stardust
amongst us, with you allowing.
Reach within, feel me
soothing. Release what
controls
and prove you know
what you’re doing.
Moonlit night, high
your command or fancy,
per nature, entrusting.
Biblical; essence of old,
illuminate my soul.
It’ll be one day
Tell me no
It’ll be one day
Never quite sure
It’ll be one day
Look past me again
It’ll be one day
Witness to love’s end
Foolish girl
Wasn’t meant for you
Foolish girl
You’re not a dream come true
Foolish girl
Your heart’s a mess
Foolish girl
You’ll never stand a chance
I want to draw you near
Pull you closer to me
I watched
His face, fall
Told me everything,
Yours will, too
Most fragrant as the sun wakes her,
gently the rays stir her soul.
Feeling proof of a strong presence,
dew, his markings, she’s told.
Accepting nourishment to blossom,
she, quite often, in his control.
Arching into each spectacular layer,
while feeling his touch, she’ll glow.
Watching,
her flourish,
pink, shy blossoms,
all on her own.
anticipating,
an open view,
settling,
on a front row seat,
through slats of a fence.
longing to touch,
desiring,
a position at her attempt,
yet, you’ve refrained.
seeing her beauty unfold,
with the rhythm of yours,
acceptable,
this morning.
for I see the hesitation,
feel the need,
and witness the control,
you have within yourself,
to let her approach,
innocently.
knowing,
eventually a fragrance will,
settle upon your face,
and you will breathe again,
as the sigh of her submission,
honors you.
Rooted underneath pleasantries
Slowly being let in
Knowing what it means
As I sit beneath his limbs
Nestled in closely
My cheek upon his skin
My imagination not willing
To allow me control again
May turning warmer
As afternoons take me within
His presence is trust
Brought to me by the wind
Layers
Each one
Heightened
To control
The focus
On her
Ignoring is best
But, she’s perfect
the allure of peach hues
leaves of seasons past, remain in view
sleek limbs rooted somewhere deep
symbolic of what I need, yet
find within myself, confusing, I know
simple answer, he must be wiser
i’m left terrified for him
and okay inside my mind alone
I’ve taught myself,
My eyes see each line.
Every intertwining part,
And how I wish they wouldn’t.
Definition in absolutes,
Best seen in piceous,
On a backdrop of gray.
When I look too far,
Spherical shapes calm me,
Hanging, swaying with ease.
Moments when I wish,
I approved of curves.
Yet, if I allowed,
You would insist.
Security,
I’m envious,
of the breathing,
you do effortlessly,
right in front of me.
Day in and day out,
I recall,
humming and sweet contentment,
out of you, which I now loathe, completely.
Stop knocking at my door,
taunting me and then,
running away.
Fair
Lightest touch
Shadows devour slowly
Pressed to exhibit strength
Romantic
***
“I hope she’ll be a fool. That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” – Daisy Buchanan
The Great Gatsby
This morning’s palest breath
Reminds me, dutifully
I was built to stand alone
Strength binding me with control
My own worst enemy
Divided by who she is and must be,
Complicated beauty, spinning.
Broken trust, yet willing to thrive,
Found from somewhere deep inside.
Torn between suffocating her color,
And accepting that which brings her life.
A painted essence you can see,
One she’ll deny continously.
You’ll want to rescue her, catch her,
Have the hand she leans towards first.
Know she’s twirling effortlessly,
Used to living sublimely,
Dedicated to using what’s hers,
Independence, her curse.
