How did we get here?
This place so full of ugly
Overflowing with unhappiness
Afraid of change
Unwilling to compromise
Apathetic in our misery
We stop trying
To get somewhere
To be someone worthy
And we grow fat
Within our complacency
Unable to give of ourselves
Not even willing to take
We lose our taste for joy
Forget how soft skin feels
And the sweet taste
Of a kiss.
Image by: Koan ( http://mrg.bz/Rfm05E)
Marked by interesting
or exciting events.
plagued by the never
ending soiree.
Music spilling
tumbling over me.
My skin.
Where I feel the
softness of violet
taste the sweetness
of a faultless harmony.
It is we who are
full of these events.
Clutching them in
our pockets like an
old napkin with a
number and a red
lipstick kiss.
I see her, walking
sunlight kisses her bare skin
Her skirt, made of silk and dreams
brushes the back of her thighs
skimming and sliding over her.
Her hair falls in a cascade
of opposing angles and curves
it catches the light
and moves it inside.
Hips that swerve and sway
hypnotize and entrance me
I begin to feel a familiar thing
deep in the bottom of my gut
and I imagine what
she feels like on my fingers
how soft she would make
my hands feel.
I watch her and take her in
my hips moving with hers
my hair falling in waves.
Velvety smooth petals
shaped like crushed tear drops
richly colored as lust
rubbing it against
my cheek, I remember.
The smell of new beginnings
and promises made
with every belief they will
come true, be kept, remain alive.
Blooming under the sun’s gaze
much like me under yours
stretching and basking
straining to absorb every ray.
Smooth stem peppered with
Sharp, prickly thorns just waiting
to hurt, to surprise, to fail
so expectations fall and
walls go up, clouds
to block the sun, the love
and then will come the end.
Your hands
reaching out
connecting with
tender flesh.
Wide eyes and
panting breath
heaving and sighs
escape parted lips.
lights turned up
don’t wanna miss
anything. Everything
is bathed in light
I’m thinking hard
that I just might
lose my mind.
I look and see
that it’s not
me you hold.
Taking a breath
Is easier when
I know I will
Have to let it
Out. Will have
time to feel it
in my lungs
before I release it.
But when I know
I will have to hold it
and feel its weight
inside me. I hesitate
to take it in.
Writhing in the sun
She shrinks
Tries to form her own shadow
To find solace
Her thoughts beat down upon her head
Like an errant trumpet,
Blasting her secrets anew.
Melting like an ice cream cone
Her resolve, her spine
Floating gently now
A sailboat on the sea of acquiescence
She ceases to writhe.
Eileen Maki 