you
me
. sauntering
strolling .
. meandering
traipsing .
. ambling
lumbering .
. lurching
staggering .
. tottering
striding .
. marching
lunging .
we
embrace
.
.
.
I hope this works on your monitor. The 2 perspectives should come evenly from either side to meet at “we / embrace”
When his gaze
met hers
across the room,
what
he meant to say
with his wink
was, ‘You entrance me’
‘I want to know you.’
‘I will fill your life with joy.’
But when she looked
again,
tears poured down his cheeks,
while he blinked feverishly,
so she looked away,
toward another sultry smile.
When his gaze
met hers
across the room,
he had much to convey
with his winking eye
but all his dreams
were destroyed
by a lens-bound fly.
You gather me into you
Entangling limbs and
Tickling kisses on the neck.
.
Your breath tangles in my hair
Escaping through quivering tendrils
Trembling into the night.
.
Your heartbeats drum against my back
Exquisite timpani.
Time stops.
Your love is
sewn into my pocket
stitched between my seams
embroidered on my psyche
threaded through my day
tying me in knots.
He spotted her across the room
and through his eyes flitted a spark
of wanting deep and dark
She would be his.
A casual wave of friendly hand
an introduction
her eyes glistened with laughter
that dug through skin, muscle, bone
and buried itself in throbbing organs
where it grew
a warm spot.
She would be his.
He greeted her with smiles
and invitations
ready to oblige her every need
grew desperate at her
encompassing joy
that welcomed all
He glared in despair at others,
and wanted her all the more.
Long walks, mittened hands held tightly
on snowy walks.
He glued her to himself
with his tears and kisses
and they walked into
the mysterious future,
where she was
his.
Night breathes
its peace in
shimmering air
dusted with winter.
.
Night breathes
its silence in
rustling wishes
between sheets.
.
Night breathes
an invitation in
a lingering look
over the shoulder.
.
Night breathes
a promise in
peace,
silence,
invitation.
My Christmas lights
are stars reflected
in a black lake
My Christmas lights
are the twinkle
in laughing eyes
My Christmas lights
are glistening in
your smile.
They lie
across my lids
stuck like caterpillars
Coyly magnifying
each magnificent blink,
each flirtatious flutter,
adding power to each
sultry glower,
Prepare prey
to be ensnared,
enter and be
rendered helpless,
as I flash
these false
eyelashes.
.
Today is hubby’s birthday, and I managed to get these lashes back on (last worn on my birthday, see photo above). They’re fun, but they sure feel weird! 😉
Honey lips
wake me
to a dreamy reality:
Unexpected pleasures,
moonlight impressions.
Your laughter
invites me to discover
a new perspective.
.
In love with a fictional character?
Honey.
Don’t you know that
ALL
objects of our desire
are fundamentally fictional?
Courtship
is a time of great performance,
convincing the other,
showing the best face,
doing things you’ve never done
(and won’t do again)
pretending you love each moment
to impress the object of your desire.
Love is always
fictional.
We love what we wish
it to be.
If we’re lucky,
when rose lenses are lost,
what we created in dream
bears enough
resemblance to reality
that truth
becomes better
than fiction.
.
.
In response to a Tweet about all the wild Outlander fans in a tizzy about Jamie Fraser coming to life. I was thinking how we fictionalize real people all the time.
Shawn L. Bird 