So many things that she reminds me of... That I do not remember. She is beautiful that way. She keeps the best of beauty... For me. Everything that is not on display.
It is late at night. Perhaps, just 'round midnight. Dusk flirts with a lit lamppost. I place my hand gently in the curve of your hip. And, soon... What strange monsters that lurk. In the mania of the mind. Fade to darkness in the beauty of your design.
The sweat shines on my sunglasses. And, I am drenched in my own skin. There is something about movable moisture. The renders me in sin.
Flipping of a coin from tail to head. cart-wheels on the beach. Drag Queen working the beat on Commercial street. Bare-footing, on the sultry tar. Hidden seaport cemeteries overgrown with unknown kin. Similar searches... Performed like a well manicured dance from centuries ago. Gentle Journeymen and Women with unease being the common goal. A sense … Continue reading Hidden on Commercial Street
Fresh water sea gathered around at my knees and feet. Would the memory fade? The gentle bear at the edge of a neon street? The aggressive wallflower that would not give up her nylon seat? Water, secretly breaking? May, December, lovers on retreat? My scattered thoughts... Re-learning how to ebb, flow and sway? Watching used … Continue reading Breaking Waters