Hands – Abandoned to touch

“Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.” 
 
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Hands, sensual, flowing, graceful.
Your hands dance with mine,
Flowing like a gentle stream, around the banks of me
The touch so slight, not holding, but grazing, delighting
Pleasure, not sexual, but pure, innocent,
Heat, energy, not forceful, but powerful
Your hands, so wonderful to watch, to feel, to know

12292011

The Light…A Parable of Discovery

“It’s not easy to be Light when you’ve been Dark. It’s almost too much to ask anyone.” 
what2Blight

Waking up, where am I? No lights, dark, eyes need to adjust. Gotta get some light. Swinging my feet from the comfort of billowed quilts, I find the floor cold and uninviting. Standing, I feel out of place, hands outstretched, groping, grasping for the light. Shuffling my feet, one bold step to reach my goal, but stopped by a jolting pain…. my toe, I believe it broke, going sideways with a pop. With faltering steps now quickened by anger and pain, an intoxicating brew, I press forward, “Where is that damn light?” Determination slowly replaced pain, I’ll find that light. Thump! Stars, a bright flash, dark again. That bump on my head is crazily thumping, a cry of pain, actually a shout of agony, as my head and toe joined in a chorus, pain accompanied by my own thoughts of “stupid, stupid, damn where’s that light?” Tripping, I slap at the air which becomes a wall at half arch, then the wall becomes a switch and, sweet luck, my awkward and painful search had uncovered the light…now with full knowledge of my surroundings, I without injury, find the warmth of my bed, its comfort made all the sweeter by having found the light.

      

My Chained Love – The neurosis of hanging on

“The scariest thought in the world is that someday I’ll wake up and realize I’ve been sleepwalking through my life: under-appreciating the people I love, making the same hurtful mistakes over and over, a slave to neuroses, fear, and the habitual.” 
bing


I carry my chain with me where ever I go. It’s a pretty chain. At least everyone thinks it should be. I take it in my hands and play with it unconsciously. I catch myself looking at it when I pass a mirror, or in a reflection on the glass. At times it chokes me, when I sleep it tangles itself around my neck and irritates me. I’m worried it will break and I’ll lose it, or someone will want it more than me and take it from me. I’ve had this chain for many years. I’d give it away, but I thought I’d miss having it. It scared me to think of the loss I would feel,  not being able to play with it, or for it to catch my eye. I don’t think a new chain would be as good, after all, how can you replace the years I’ve invested in taking care of this one? I’ll probably die with it after all….


01262011

It’s Illegal To Fly – A romantic encounter

“Do you love him?”
Deryn swallowed, then pointed at the screen. “He makes me feel like that. Like flying.”
  – Scott Westerfeld,
Goliath
 

The following article was written by Anna Rindfleish, a talented author and blogger, in her blog, annaaa in a fairytaleee. Enjoy.

I can feel the sunshine on my skin,

The way it wraps you up in a cloth so smooth
It feels just as lovely as you once did 
Laying on hot sand next to me
Our shoulders would touch, and there’d be this awkward silence
Then you’d smile abruptly, stand, pick me up and rush
Headfirst like the linebacker you are, towards the crashing waves.
You’d laugh and I’d squeal, draped over your shoulder blades.
My dead weight was nothing to you

You use to kiss me under the water
When the waves came and I feared I’d be washed away
You use to say, “Babe, I’m right here,” 
You’d lean into me and kiss my forehead 
Plant your feet into the sand, your two hands gripping my face.
You’d kiss me and it would be sweeter than honey
Smoother than any diamond green money could buy
Bitter like straight whiskey-
You’d steal my breath from me.

I don’t like that my once cherished memories 
How they have these ways of sneaking up on me
I push them down; ignore the feelings
I avoid the places you might be
Close my eyes and count to three 
When I see someone who happens to look just like you.
I’m standing in the rain, its pelting drops mangles with tears
Molding my hair into knots, burning my skin like acid would.
I’m standing on a pier and I’m not supposed to be here.
A swell makes the waves crash over the wooden planks.
I should leave.
Then I remember the day we jumped.
A rush so rich, my heart thudded against my chest.
You held so tightly onto my hand
Then wrapped me in your arms just before we hit the water.

When we swam to shore we were arrested.
The cop asked us if it was worth it
You grinned at him so brilliantly, dripping salt water in the back seat of his squad car and said 
“Hell yeah.”
When the cop shook his head and asked why 

You said, “My baby wanted to know what it would be like to fly.”

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