It's been a crazy week. I must remember to breathe.

Deep Breath

I fell in love
With the sound of your breath

I’m sure you never noticed

Such calm beauty
I’m going to miss it

Happiness and its Nemesis

A take on the Read Write Poem prompt Opposites Attract. The finished piece is first and the two poems I wrote to complete the prompt follow.

Happiness and its Nemesis

A summer morning
Flesh on flesh
Lemonade dripping from your lips

A hand slowly slipping up my leg
The sun, a witness to our innocence
Fingerprints drawing a path on my skin

I think to myself
I want to live in this moment

Then you whisper in my ear
You are nothing without me

*************************************************

Happiness

A summer morning
Lemonade
Dripping from your lips
The sun, a witness to our innocence

I think to myself
I want to live in this moment

**************************************************

Nemesis

Flesh on flesh
A hand slowly slipping
Up my leg
Fingerprints drawing a path on my skin

Then you whisper in my ear
You are nothing without me

So many ideas, so little time...

Untitled VI

It didn’t take long
For you to become infatuated
With my lips

It didn’t take long
For you to become disenchanted

Collecting thoughts

A quickly-written piece to finish out the month. Now I'm off to do laundry.

Collecting Thoughts

Messages in bottles
Love letters written in sand

The waves come crashing
Pull them in with watery precision

They arrive on my doorstep
in pieces

Shattered, torn, broken
Marked: Return to Sender

An observation on the life of a waitress.

I love people-watching. It's one of my favorite things to do. I imagine the kind of lives that people passing by live, have lived, or want to live. I suppose there are people who do the same when they watch me. I often wonder what they see, but sadly will never know. I wrote this poem this morning while on the bus, passing one of my favorite diners. It took all of two minutes and I actually like how it turned out.

Waitress

Outside, she steadies herself
against the brick of a deceptive
Hollywood background reflection

Chicago wind dances
through curls, bleached white
time after time

A Betty
Gladys
Or Annette

Index and middle fingers firm
around a long, slim cigarette

Dreaming long lost
dreams with each inhale

With each exhale, wondering
where the time went

Promises, promises...

I don't make many promises, because to me a promise is sacred. It's something that is meant to be kept, not broken. A friend of mine doesn't believe in promises. For the ten years I've known him, and for many years before that even, he has made people pinky-swear when something is important. I think it's adorable.

My Promise to You

I’ll pull together all of our
false starts
Toss them in my pocket

The next time it rains
I’ll let the sky wash them away

My Truth

My Truth

I fall in love
On a daily basis

The written word
Is never disappointing