Monday, July 29, 2013
On The Todd
If by some feat or miracle
I was given a day off
in the middle of the week
Would I sleep late, nestled
with you under cover of a
single cotton sheet
my front cool from the breeze
through the open window
my back hot from the exchange
of our bodies' heat
back to front
Or would I leave you as usual
and walk, not to work, but
instead follow along the dry
river bed, finding myself a cool
grass cushion under the shade
of an old wizened tree
and there take my pen and paper
and trace our body angles and
our uneven breath in phrases
floating across the page
Our unspoken wishes appearing as
small strokes and short lines
which turn eventually to a fine dust
like the ashes left after
a fire has died
"ellecee"
I was given a day off
in the middle of the week
Would I sleep late, nestled
with you under cover of a
single cotton sheet
my front cool from the breeze
through the open window
my back hot from the exchange
of our bodies' heat
back to front
Or would I leave you as usual
and walk, not to work, but
instead follow along the dry
river bed, finding myself a cool
grass cushion under the shade
of an old wizened tree
and there take my pen and paper
and trace our body angles and
our uneven breath in phrases
floating across the page
Our unspoken wishes appearing as
small strokes and short lines
which turn eventually to a fine dust
like the ashes left after
a fire has died
"ellecee"
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Returning
I have run amuck
in days unladen
with inspiration
Duty called my feet
to walk in old tracks
riddled with fresh
angst
I stopped
to listen
and
there was the voice
of reason
calling me
home
"ellecee"
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As twilight moves away and darkness engulfs me with its solemn breath you come to me and we open ourselves to one another ou...