instant magic

at least that's what it felt like

because at first
there was nothing

and then in a flash
everything existed

let's

Because I haven't writtten on here in ages and I haven't really written much creatively of late, I looked back to something I wrote this February and modified it. See below...(yay for lunchtime to give me time to eat, listen to a Conference talk, and write a little bit...one more class to go for the day.)



You'd never guess my greatest fear.
You'd never guess the things so dear to me.
You'd never guess all this about me,
And I, in turn, would never guess as much about you.

That's why there's talk,
No?

That's why we need to talk.

I would like to try to
Get around
All the
Guessing,
Conjecturing,
Supposing.

Things aren't always what they seem to be.
Isn't that a saying?
Well, same with people.

So let's talk.
Because you'd never guess all I want you to know,
Need you to know.
And I'd never guess the same.

orbs

My dreams miss me.

I startled awake,
And left them weeping their weaving tale.

I almost cried

When I stepped outside.
The moon globed in the west.

But with no glasses gracing my face,
I couldn't make out its detail.

Is it the same with you sometimes?

You step away from me,
And tires spinning have crushed the lenses

Which bring things into focus.

I can see the oval of your face,

But can't distinguish
Between the way your mouth moves
To make an 'O' sound
And the way it slowly

comes to a sad close.

pause

Waves crash upon the sand. I search for rounded sea glass amid the pebbles that stick to the bottom of my feet. We sink into sand and sea water kisses our knees. I kneel and fill my hands with sand. I move and mound it into the shape of a dome. You remain standing, so, with more sand, I cover your feet. Moments later you crouch down, breaking through your feet's fetters, and add to the dome. But your eyes stretch out to the horizon and don't focus on this moment. My eyes on yours, I can't see where you've gone, although you're still very literally and physically here. I'm not with you, wherever you are. I stand and step a few more paces into the water until it hits me hip-high. I raise my arms and look up at the white clouds turning pink. I sway my hands in the water and bring some to my face. I start back towards you. Looking at my feet, I place them on the bigger rocks. I don't want to slip. And then. Underwater. I choke because the force of you pushing me under has left me without air. The abruptness of submersion incites me to laughter, not aiding the choking situation much. I grab your waist. I laugh. You smile. I quiet down, regain the ability to breathe again, and it's just us standing there. Heaving breaths towards the horizon and wet with water, we pause. Together.

already

She couldn't bring back the way he said her name,
Despite the ringing in her ears.

Her memory echoed with his voice--

I don't know,

Wait and see,

and

Oh my goodness.

Her name, though,

No.

She would think.
She would wonder.

How did you say my name?
Was it always with a hint of a smile?
Why did I rarely lock eyes with you in that moment?
Was it out of fear?
Or out of too much heedless love?
Did you ever say my name happily?
Or was it always already soaked with regret?

Always already,
Her name
Gone.

set to "Dance Theme of the 80's"

last night.
sun down.
street lights.
drive round.

song loud.
chlorine sting.
perfect crowd.
voices sing.

pull in.
one more.
perfect grins.
sweet core.

ledge's edge

Next to the windowsill
She curled herself into sleep,
Hoping some big friendly giant would scoop her up
And take her away from
Here.

But her perch was not edgy enough.
How was she to know?

So,
No sauntering, amiable giant
Became her rescuer.

There she lay,
Awake the whole night.
Eyes closed but awake,
Waiting.

Morning came.
She stepped back into the room
And tried to face the day.