Among dust bunnies collecting on the carpet of her bedroom are lullabies, matted into the seashell shaped ridges by eager toes.
Other mothers sing Rockabye Baby, but hers crooned the crash of ocean waves and the ballads of mermaids.
Memories like those sent shivers down her spine, cold fingered fairies dispatched to walk the tightrope of each nerve, triggering flashbacks of moment after moment.

Beneath a quilt of fallen oak leaves he found a baby hedgehog, infant bristles damp and lonely.
Some days, when it meandered curiously across half-written papers, its paws writing notes in a script he couldn't decipher, he regretted rescuing the handful of spines with the pale, inquisitive nose.
Leaves of muddied paper, though, became pages in a scrapbook, dedicated to moments more beautiful than he could fathom.

Following them were snapshots of sunsets over the lake, the first phrases from a concerto he adored, a polaroid of his fingers interlaced with hers.
Her palm met his without hesitancy, and the joy she felt reminded her of the mermaid's musings heard through the sleepy ears of a child.
On all sides it was warm and safe and fantastically real, simply because they decided it should be.

While she did say no the first time he asked her to marry him, it was only because to her marriage had grown stiff with age and its rusting hinges complained when she tried to add her own swing to its meaning.
He asked her again, of course, because she was the only person he'd ever met whose heart fit his jigsaw edges so perfectly, and this time she said yes.
Waits for the love, her mother told her; a fearless woman waits for love to ask twice.

On the winter solstice their son was born, whom they named Martin, because he thought it sounded courageous and she thought it sounded furry.
Distant waves tumbled as she sang her little one to sleep in the only way she knew how, and gave him hedgehog kisses with her eyelashes because butterflies are too delicate.
Dreams always came quickly and lingered in his mind, fantasies of whirling woodland dances and salty kisses from the wind.

They documented the unassuming; they tracked coincidence; they remembered the weight of every footstep and the cadence of every whispered "good night." They knew that even though they were obscured by the smoke of normality and stench of the future, every moment was unique. Among other things they found everything.

I want to go to places,
where water falls, spilling down
hidden rock faces
while pools of water fill the air
with a heavy mist to lift my cares
high out of reach.

Dip my toes into a clear pond,
submerge  hold my breath beyond,
...
not to test me or to test God,
just stay as long, how odd?
to say so long to, my cares.

Now I know they will find me
returning to easily remind me,
they know where I dreamsleep
they are only cares, they
brought their cousins nightmares.

And all I wanted was a break,
a token of a moment of peace,
not be broken into pieces.

Love is being able to speak with your eyes while silence caresses your cheeks when you're in each other's arms-
When you finally give into vulnerability and your walls come crashing down with the sound of his whispers kissing your ears-
And even though you're consumed by fear, he takes your hands and gives you the brightest smile through the smoke.
With each passing moment, you get a step closer to realizing that all you need is a bulldozer and a little light to feel alive and accepting of every blessing love can give.
And in the end, all you have is rubble, silence, and a world of kisses in a universe bound by effortless happiness.
It may all seem grotesque, but in this world of kisses, lovers are blind to the entirety of it all, but they always seem to have enough light to acknowledge other's faces.
No need to build up the wall again.
Love feels like always and forever.
He says so.
Maybe reassurance is the very thing that collapsed the tower in the first place.

a large black and white beast lays on the floor beside me.
in this room
at this moment
no real danger is present

The soft fur warms my skin, while taking a deep breath of December air.

I look out into the mist, the mountains are playing hide and seek again out in the distance.

I’m watching him let out a sigh from the corner of my eye, making me want to rush in and catch it, with my mouth. He smiles, knows I’m daydreaming of him again.

I look back at the mountains and feel at a loss somehow, perhaps nature doesn’t like letting go either, an uncomfortable slumber of cold mementos and frozen earth. Time feels like it’s standing still, and in this moment my favorite part is holding his hand, knowing he wants to hold mine, firmly.

Look up, Love. Atoms are dancing, colliding and painting the sky.

Palms together, the cold air settles slowly but with purpose and clothes me in goosebumps. I haven’t worn a watch in years, don’t need to know what time it is, know my heart is about to stop. The wallcreepers are on the move, feathers flee into the mist.

The wind seeks my attention, wants to dry the tears as I huddle but I won’t fight the strain. This mountain is familiar and I count cracks upon the skin on my wrists, assessing age that of a tree, rings now too many. Smirking while in search of the great white titan, taller than any sequoia.

The sun is prowling, scouting for a Tricity born tellurian playing hide and seek for yet another day. I jump and for a solid moment I feel an emptiness, an ethereal weight, I gasp and try again, gasp, try… sigh…

What a useless pit my stomach is and meaningless behavior to spoon feed these tired bones to chew, to taste, to swallow. I will take it in when the chest's un-clenched and I'm not moments from tasting bile again. Such a perfect soul, she could feed my will. Should I just choose to sit and stare, Or if a fit of courage broke, to ask her if her days been fair.
I am just a common spook. The locals ignore the spirit walking. He is just a harmless ghost. Don't pay attention to his haunting. He's a partial dead, a nearly headless Nick. Waiting for his final blow and for the moment that his peace will show. He doesn't shake the entire time, in fact I often see him crying. Sobbing gently out of reach in the rafters where he's flying. One time I saw him on the roof, as if planning his suicidal jump. I felt I had to let him know, he had no heart that pumps. He closed his eyes and stepped away, hanging in the air. Scaring all the shoppers away in violent cries while we just stood and stared. Only one old gentleman, with gentle eyes and a baritone with soul. Who seemed to try and calm the little guy with the comfort of the old. After that an ambitious youth said, "for a price I can chase the demon out of town." Curious what the boy would try I paid him to try to get him down. He tied a dream catcher to a rope and gave it one big swing, caught the fellow by the kneck then drove him through the streets. I still don't know if he let him go or if the ghost broke free. That is why the soul you see, looks like mangled meat.

Testing, testing, 1. . . 2 . . .3
And now you're gone.
So taken back I couldn't speak

s
      

                                            i                                                  l
       e                                                     n

c

e

I now regret.
I heard you cry.
Bawling feely in your pain
While I sat confounded in the theater room
I couldn't think
But a kind jester came to mind.
"Don't forget your favorite blanket my love,"
For sleeping, and for comfort.
You were sitting on the bathroom floor
and I had just made you cry harder.
My kind jester was given back to me.
I wanted to offer you my entire life.
I wanted to give you comfort
and help to sleep at night.
I wanted you to have trinkets
So you wouldn't forget all my memories.
I knew you well enough to know,
You'd grab what you thought you’d need.
So I took a walk to get away.
and allow your parents to help you.
I knew you didn't want to do this all alone.
I thought I knew why but I just couldn't find
The strength to go and help you.
I wondered so many times,
why you didn't take more,
anything to remember me by.
I thought I was so important.
I've always been so selfish.
Sometimes I wonder
If you really kept your wedding set.
Not many do after divorce.
I really hope you do.
It's no longer a symbols
Of our eternal love.
More of just a reminder
That there was good amongst the rough.

an extremely emotional moment I will have try writing about it again this just leaves me lacking

Warmth in human form, she wore an electrifying charm,
when she passed him from behind even without a glance,
his heart felt a yearning forgotten for a long time.
Prithee, mercy on me, his heart cried in the voice of an abandoned child,
didn't feel below his dignity to plead the ray of  light to kiss his brows.
Then she gently turned back and smiled, grace transmitting her fragrance,
both were blessed by that moment, the caress of angel's wings.
One look of the girl evoked,  a caring feminine lushness: mother, sister or lover,
her evanescence in him brought a pleasantness that  lasted for ever.