Tag Archives: pros

Untitled, No. 9

These days I find it hard

To drift to sleep without you

My back has grown accustomed to your heat

My neck, to the feeling of your breath

My hands know intimately the beating in your chest

And the way your fingers tangle into mine

The ache of longing is what keeps me from sleep,

Tossing and turning to attune myself

To a body that’s miles from my own.

(Re)birth

Some children are born

With tragedy in their blood

Their fragile bones

Pressed to hardness from the dust,

The ruins of past lives

The overlap of muscle and skin

Layers of vicissitudes 

Skin, an intricate weave of cells and afflictions 

Their beating hearts

Already broken.

Untitled, No. 8

These quiet moments are my favorite;

A steaming mug of coffee

To fight against the chill in the air

Your sleepy sounds in the next room

While I read by the morning sunrise 

There is nothing I want more

Than to steal these moments every day

To keep them sacred for myself

To know that you are safe.

S’more Cookies

You made me cookies with hershey’s kisses
(The little marshmallows are your favorite)
When all I wanted was the sweet taste of your lips
Words sinful like the darkest cacao
Your voice a delicacy
I want all to myself.
Instead I smiled and thanked you,
Told you “no one’s ever made me cookies before”
When no one cared enough to take the time
To be as sweet as you are naturally, with ease
The excited way you splayed them out for me,
Your work of art,
“made with love”
1 tsp of vanilla (a surprise to you)
My indulgence in you is becoming unhealthy
Like too many cookies,
And yet I’ll still take every bit of sweetness you offer
Gorging myself on you because I’ll never have my fill.

In response to “Girlfriend Wanted”,

Of all the beginning specifications stated I am perfectly suited.

I can promise we will spend too many resources on decorating for any holiday, but most especially for Halloween and Christmas. Mischief is an ingrained part of my character, and I have no qualms about kissing in any sort of circumstance, regardless of place or time. I love wind chimes, but I must ask how you feel about sun catchers as well.

I am on the shorter side of average height and my weight is a little lower than I’d like, but I appreciate your open mind in regards to hair color, as mine changes frequently from naturals to neon and everything in between. I care nothing for politics but know enough to stay informed.

Cynics and critics are the pothole people on the road of life and I can assure you I am not among them. I must forewarn you, though I do not consider myself a pessimist I do have days when everything is dreary so I trust you will have understanding in such situations and if you continue being your usual self, the problems should sort themselves out in due time.

I am more voluptuous in character than figure, but I don’t believe that will pose any sort of issue for either of us if you know what you’re getting into.

I admire Mary Poppins’ philosophy and adore Elvira’s air and stylish appearance, but I can say I am wholeheartedly my own person whatever resemblance I might have.

I can tolerate whistling although I cannot do it myself so I prefer to hum. I also burst into fits of song at the slightest remembrance of a tune. Tickle torture is fine, so long as it is not one-sided for I give as good as I get and all is fair in love and war. If you can promise me a dance, I’m sure I’ll find anything you choose to play enjoyable. But if we’re strictly speaking James Taylor, then putting on How Sweet it Is or You’ve Got a Friend is a guaranteed way to get a smile at the very least. I am neither an early bird nor a night owl, but if you cuddle me in the mornings I’ll only leave the comfort of your arms when you leave the comfort of your downy. If not, there’s always time for breakfast in bed and those morning butterfly kisses.

I’ll match your limp with my twitch, your soft hands with my hardy ones, and your preternatural love of autumn with my own.

As for being called a “coal-eyed dandy”, it certainly does sound like a compliment so why not indulge yourself with accepting it as such?

I wiggle my feet in my sleep as well, have a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush, and think any Muppet movie is a good one. I am predisposed to anything Tim Burton, but most especially his claymation works.

You don’t ask for very much, but for all you do ask I would happily give and receive.

A few more notes of reference about myself are as follows;

I drink an excessive amount of tea, entertain nonsensical ramblings with myself, and read like it’s air.

I stammer and stutter quite regularly, play the piano (I use the term “play” very loosely), love breakfast for dinner, and adore anything by Tolkien, Lovecraft, or Poe.

I abhor gardening but love flowers. I prefer dogs to cats but only in the slightest, and I find ironic or outrageous names to be fantastic.

There isn’t much I can offer but I hope this response suits you well and that you would consider me as an applicant for the task.

 

On Finding Love

All I wanted from love was someone who stayed. Someone who gave in equal respects as I and who wasn’t afraid of knowing me inside and out. They would be willing to learn me, like an oceanographer learns the waters of their craft, while remaining as amazed at me as when they first began to dip their toes into cool crystal pools in the summers of their youth, knowing there is so much more beneath the glassy surface; that it can turn tumultuous in the noon and become calm again under the moon’s gentle light, reflecting the sky so above and below there is nothing but the beauty of a world of stars.

Simple as it sounds, it is sure to be harder than imagined. Life is like that. Love, even more so. I’ve found it to be a fickle thing, not to say untrustworthy, but definitely ever-changing. One second it’s the most perfect feeling, making your heart soars as high as eagles, floating amongst the clouds. The next it’s torturous and frightening, like running in the dark, stumbling over yourself desperate to find that old light to save and guide you. It cannot be found by being circumspect but I am a being crafted by caution. Cold and calculating, I feel less with my heart than perceive emotions with my mind. Life has yet to place someone in my path that quiets those voices in my head and allows my heart to speak, to feel the other’s presence like a balm on my soul. But love keeps my hopeful. It’s a golden honey I crave with my entire being, licking lips and longing for a taste of that sweetness only love can satiate.

Stranger In the Rain

No one knew what to make of her; dark curls tumbling down her back, a blood red pout sitting on fair skin and a look of mischief on all her features. Her green eyes entranced everyone she privileged with her sharp gaze. The atmosphere around her chilled, leaving a trail of shivers down spines, enigmatic and full of carefully shadowed secrets that would never pass her full lips. She was the kind of girl everyone noticed upon entering a room, for the silence that fell over crowds when her voluptuous character stepped across a threshold was deafening. The dark palette which graced her figure stood out starkly from her light complexion, blurring the shape of her hips and breasts into infinity while remaining modest and inviting to anyone brave enough to approach her. For a time, no one dared. Her overwhelming presence filled the air with static, like a match waiting to ignite and catch fire, meeting with nothing but trepidation.

Then one day, racing across the street, feet slapping on the wet pavement sounding like thunder, she met a girl. Outlined under a dim streetlight, the pouring rain illuminated against the dark night shadows, there stood a figure. The lithe form captured the girl’s imagination and she stopped outside the ring of light on the street, the circle enfolding the other girl like a luminous skirt in spite of her soaking apparel. Captivated, the girl called out a question barely audible over the sound of the downpour.

“Why do you stand in the rain?”

The other girl’s rosy lips lifted in a smile and she shook herself, the droplets of water cascading down her bare arms and legs and causing her to shiver from the night air as it cooled the droplets on her skin. “I’m not quite sure why, but I know that I am here and I do not mind the rain.” She held out a graceful hand to the stranger in a silent request for her to take it and join her underneath the soft glow of the streetlight. The moon beamed in the sky when she accepted the girl’s hand and she lifted her face to it, letting its light shine upon her face, and as the other girl stood transfixed by her beauty, the moon glistened on her skin, making it appear lucent, like she had diamonds underneath her skin that only the moon’s incandescence could reveal. Her heart clenching in fascination she said to the stranger she had found, “Truly, you are not of this world.”