Tuesday, January 22, 2013

You were here..




You are already dead in my time. But you are still here. You are the whispering wind that sends goose bumps down my spine and the sensation of water as my foot breaks the surface. You are a lover's fingers on my cheek and a drunkard’s elbow in a crowded bar. You are the grass beneath my toes and the sky above my head. So I smile. Because you are in that too.

Friday, January 18, 2013

He falls for her..




And he loves her.  He loves her like he can never grab enough of her between his fingers. And no matter how close he gets, even when they make love, it never feels close enough, like her flesh and her bones keep something sacred in them, hidden for him.