Categories
Prose

Bedroom Storm – Take Covers

Bashed you over the head with my feelings. I painted a picture with words, and a picture of words with paintings, painting word pictures on pages and walls and trees. Icicle frenzy gripped the monocle of the eye of the hurricane.

Tentative and certain, like a dance with the wrong music, I embrace your strangeness. Your brand of beauty is not available in stores. I couldn’t have tried more if I tried. You took me out of the friend zone, and put me in your bed with a whisper.

I whispered back silently, wordlessly, though I still used my tongue. You reacted just how I had hoped, and then some. Hope was the last thing in Pandora’s box, and I wanted to be the last thing in yours.

The hurricane looked away, blushing.

Categories
Philosophy Prose

Perfect Moments In Memory Glass

This is about love.

I watched this movie on Netflix called The Map of Tiny Perfect Things, and it was amazing. Hit me right in the feels. At the end, it was talking about perfect moments, and I realized that I wrote a poem about perfect moments for my middle brother’s wedding – read it during the ceremony, in fact. It’s this:

Eternal Matrimony

I don’t care that you’re running
I know you’re not running away
I don’t mind the mountains you climb
I know you’re not just with me ‘because I’m there’
I don’t mind if you look at another
I know you’re thinking of me
I don’t worry when you’re gone
I know you walk beside me
I don’t care that I may never get everything I want
You are all I need
I’m not upset by the raging river of differences between us
The stepping stones of perfect moments bring me to you
I don’t worry about your past
It brought you to me, and us to this perfect moment
And from this perfect moment to the next
Though our lips part, still we kiss
Though our hands let go, still we touch
Though our eyes close, still we see one another
Though our voices are raised, still we whisper
Of perfect moments and perfect love

In the middle of the movie somewhere, she said she’d only be friends. He wanted more. Unrequited love. And I realized that the moment before it became manifest, the love he felt – the love I feel for someone – is a perfect one. It’s like love is a baseball that can be thrown around and used to play fun games, but the minute it’s unrequited it is like a baseball signed by a World Series winning team. Sure, you worship it, cherish it, look at it from every facet, but you never touch it again, for fear of diminishing its value.

Some perfect moments need to be felt by feeling the feeling of remembering the perfect moment, rather than feeling the moment itself. I’m afraid that reliving the moment itself will eventually make that moment like any moment, one of many, a drop in the ocean, a raindrop in the sky.

A raindrop falling from the vast sky into the vast ocean.

Instead of that one raindrop that causes me and the person I love to smile and laugh and run like crazy for shelter from the storm that just started, and then watching it and listening to each drop, none of them like that first one.

Sometimes an entire person is encased in memory-glass. You can’t go back, you know. You can only remember.

Categories
Poetry

Life, Love, And Sleeping In

Life imagines us piece by piece, creating us from raindrops and beach sand and autumn leaves. Colors, sadness and tranquility blown by the wind carve ruts in our skin, reminding us of what is missing. 


Love molds us with hands and caresses, asking us what we want, what shape we should take, how many times we should kiss, until the clouds and smoke bring us down to ground level, shaking the earth beneath our feet.

Categories
Lyrics Poetry

Spiral Staircases

I’m beside myself to be inside you
You are my home
I tried to find myself
Found me in you
You’re not alone
You are my home
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
You’d like to be a better you
I am your home
There is no one better than you
You’re the best person I know
You are my home
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
Invisible, let’s disappear
Let’s pretend that we’re the only people here
You are my home
I love how you move towards me
There’s a middle to meet in
A bed for us to be in
An eternity to share life
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
You are my love

Categories
Poetry

The Rise And Fall Of Autumn Leaves

Hardcore cinnamon petrichor
Earth enters sensory perception
Still doesn’t overcome the feel, the scent of you
In pure mornings with you, my life
All else fades into the distance
I let my eyes go out of focus
I still see you, crystal clear
All I see are your crisp lines
Which I trace with my fingertips
In awe, I admire your creation
Unique, priceless, unparalleled
My inadequacies shine loudly
I wonder how a being such as you
Could love me so deeply
I am grateful for you
And I want you to feel that, my love
Holding you tight, I bare my soul
Fill you with my essence
Sharing my body completely
Holding nothing back
Dying to see your pleasure

Categories
Story

She Calls Me Home

She woke up and immediately knew she was alone. Sensing his absence from their plush bed was probably the catalyst. She threw on a silk robe and went on a hunt for him through the house they had built together.

She felt him deeply. Their connection had always been strong, but lately it had felt intense, as though they experienced the same senses with the same body. As though they were one. She felt a deep sadness, which concerned her.

She saw him through the glass door of his office, holding papers and glancing at his laptop, sobbing. She watched him, admiring his shoulders and his strength, but appreciating his vulnerability.

She silently opened the door, closing it behind her, and walked quietly around his desk to him. She took the papers out of his hands, sat in his lap facing him, and just held him dearly. He didn’t say a word. He just allowed her to be close, and put his arms around her, closing his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“I had a terrible dream. You were gone, and I couldn’t find you. You were lost to me, and I had to go back to the beginning, our beginning. I came down here half-asleep to read and experience how we began. To remember…”

“I’m right here. I’m never going anywhere.”

“I know, but… you had not simply left. You were dead. I couldn’t stand the thought of being without you. I had to feel all of you again, to bring you back. I can’t lose you.”

“It seems to have worked. Here I am, and I won’t ever leave you.”

She held him close, kissing his forehead and lips, and he visibly relaxed, still sobbing. He held her tighter than she had ever known, relaxing in tranquil bliss.

He had her, and she gave him happiness. He thought of all the times they had shared, all the experiences, and smiled. Like a switch that had been flipped, he suddenly became exquisitely aware of the feel of her skin on his, of their glowing love for one another, the mysterious way time flew by and stopped when they were together.

“I love you.” He was moved by her beauty, her long hair, her deep eyes that captivated him, her delicious curves beneath the silk. He was also moved by her devotion to him, and the total happiness and contentment he felt when he was with her. She had changed his life in so many ways.

“I love you, too.” He stood up with her still in his arms, and headed upstairs back to bed. She wouldn’t let him feel this sadness ever again. How could he? She was everything, and she was right here.

The robe fluttered to the floor…

Categories
Prose

My Favorite Season Is Falling In Love

I fell and tripped and caught myself, and caught myself staring, and stared back at the past, and stared at you until you looked back, wondering why I looked so intently. Intensely, as if a car crash had become a field of flowers that I couldn’t see enough of.

You danced on the edge of my reality as the vaguely sweet smell of the season of you filled the air. I ordered you, sipped your delicious flavors, savored your scintillating aromas, drank you in, and felt your warmth. My name was on your cup, along with exactly what I wanted.

Could I have chosen more wisely? I didn’t trust myself. I hadn’t become good at the other person, only myself. I relied on you to be good at us until I could practice. You showed me a thing or two. You taught me a few tricks and tips. I shared with you everything I knew, but you were all I knew when you were around.

My watch stopped. I stopped watching for the next one and the next one. This is where I wanted to be. You were where I wanted to be. You were the scenery and the journey and the cabin on the lake. You were the fireplace and the snowflakes on my tongue. You were home.

When I was a child, I’d fall asleep here, and wake up there. It was always my favorite trick, until you came along and made my walls disappear.