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 Mar 2013 Alex Bautista
Tessa F
Silence makes me uncomfortable.
It's too raw and naked, the sudden exposure stinging like an open wound.
I always want to cover it up.
To fill the silence with something, like a word or a gesture.
Because in the silence there is time to stare.
Your eyes rake over my body.

Except...I think I like this silence.
I think, this time, *I want you to look at me.

Your eyes drink in my skin, glide over my curves, but only because they are pathways to my soul.
I will my shaky eyes to rise up and meet yours, only to have you grab my hand, stare me in my freckle-infested face and say:
"You are gorgeous."
To be honest? I think I believe you.

So in the silence you stare, and I let you.
Nowadays I get lost so deep into your eyes that I forget that silences are supposed to be uncomfortable.
But in the silence, our hearts aren't quiet at all.

Now all of the still spaces between moments I want to fill up with you.
The second between a sigh and then the curving of a smile.
The rustle when we trade morning papers.
The pause between text message responses.
The final hesitation, squeeze, and then release from a hug.
The inches between my tears.
The frozen period after inhaling and before exhaling.
Somehow you have made yourself at home in these spaces,
Fitting there just as perfectly as our interlaced fingers do.
Raw and naked, you make me glow.

Now there is no need for me to fill the silence,
When the brush of your thumb over mine and the flutter of your eyelashes like butterflies against my neck **say it all.
Is hope an ideal
A place
Or a dream
Is love not it's root
That of ideals
The place a dream sits
Is despair the loss of hope
Not love uprooted
It's dreams expired
Then what of life
To live we need both hope,
Lest we forget our dreams
We need love to dispel despair
Are these ideals
Or simply life's truths
 Mar 2013 Alex Bautista
st64
Meet the Whisperer....
(Oh, and you will want to, promise :)


1.
He can shape and mould
To aught pleasure he desires.

When he calls them at will
Supple compliance at his command.

Yes, they come like twitching magnets
Real easy beck and call.

Such happy slaves are they
Very few recalcitrant ones.

He twists and trims their sides
Makes them kneel before his want.

He will harness their might
Bend them sweetly to his gratifix.

Perchance, skittish on occasion
Yet they serve their master well.

They can spread to furthest capacity
Turning dried veracity into well-loved fable.

He whips them to submission
Insanely alive, they need birth certificates!

Yet tenderly, he caresses, explores
Renders dramatic echoes in outrageous lore.


2.
They melt like marvelous putty, toffee in deft hands
Makes them caress YOU sensuous, everywhere...

They reach deep, tap in and touch your core
Delight or thrill....or equally meet your mind.

Yes, they can stick you with bruising truth
Move you, or bring you to your knees....

They can furnish context with telling content
And with stunning detail, woo the sox off thee :-p

He articulates every brief encounter
With sage and timeless passion.

Molten liquid drips from his entrancing tip
In gilt carriages headed your way....

When the whisperer appears, best be ready
To receive what he may see fit to flay on you!

If that's too tall an order, it amounts to
Clipped wings, falling sadly short of flight.

Be willing to taste that mesmerising lilt
Indebted you'll be to the lack of crude reality.

Oh, reader...retire not spirit of droll mind
Revel eager in rich spark for riveting trips.

Yes, he is the one, your...
One and only word-whisperer.


(Enchante, cher lecteur :)

bows




Star Toucher, 28 March 2013
Only words, you guys....lol
Shhhhh.....!

Words...mere purveyors of thought, not so?

Yet you must admit.....
Appointments with terrific words and the broad mind can lead to......zippingly cool romps and staggeringly impressive mental empires.

Yes, to submerge the mind in an endless sea of tremendous words and well-turned phrases....if you learn to swim well there....oh, what wonders await there .....open your mind....

Well.....hope you don't turn down the (actually, androgynous) whisperer...should you be so lucky to have a chance encounter or two....lol
...The heart speaks
even black clouds spread
You know it's right
and the words are
not silhouttes
facing the shadow
Never live to dream
they will drive you
slowly
into madness
Miracles don't happen by
shaking the tree
You have to have fire
for things to burn and
you'll see how easy it is to
ride the tides
Masks are useful to hide the blush
but don't wear them too often
You don't want people to
forget your face
And for every tear is
a cry
Let it happen and
it will be
alright...
Mek
01.23.13
 Mar 2013 Alex Bautista
Tessa F
Listen to me.
Don't just stare at the empty space above my head, don't let your mind wander, and don't you dare be talking to that voice inside your head. Listen to me. Listen to what I am saying, not that voice. Those are the people that we need to hold accountable for the judgements and dark thoughts, the little devil on your left shoulder that stabbed the right angel to death years ago.
Your mind is a machine gun shooting holes in all of your ideas, all of your dreams, and all of your will power. We shoot down the wings of self-confidence that would have flown us to heights of the impossible.
Have I lost you yet? Are you still out there? How far are you receding back into the depths of your mind? Listen to what I am saying.
Let your fishing pole of will power cast its line into your blood stream. Let it flow down your veins, heart starts pumping again, warmth spreads into your toes until you catch your soul. Reel it in, breathe it in, let it come to the surface and taste the light. Reel in your line to your ear drums, feel the rhythm of your life and your purpose. I mean it when I say to listen to me with your heart and soul.
Now that your soul has travelled this far, fished out of the dark and guarded recesses of your body, I beg you. Wear your heart on your sleeve. Anchor it down with a safety pin of hope and faith, the things that keep you from giving up.
If you are still listening to me, then please, take it just a little leap further and believe me.
Believe me when I tell you that you are worthy. Believe me when I tell you that you have importance. Believe me when I tell you that every action you take, down to the smallest passing smile, makes a difference.
If you are still listening to me, believe me that you are beautiful to your core. I know you are. I can see your gorgeous soul pinned there to your sleeve.
The most important thing that I want you to believe, need you to believe, is that you are loved. You have no right to deny this statement when I tell you, right now, that I love each and every one of you. All of your flaws and mistakes and pains and joys and passions. Whenever you share a little part of your life with me, it makes mine worthwhile.
YOU are worthwhile.
Listen to me when I tell you: always listen to yourself.
This is more of a speech than a poem..
 Mar 2013 Alex Bautista
Tessa F
When I close my eyes, your blue ones stare back at me.

When I dare to breathe, I can still feel the weight of your chest crushing mine.

When I shiver in the middle of the night, I remember the rush of your skin.

When something makes my heart beat fast, I'm brought back to the times you got my heart to break out of my ribcage.

Please get out of my dreams.

I can't stand the comforting smell of your cheek.

Science says that every seven years, each cell in your body is completely new.

Nowadays I'm afraid that I will never be able to claw every last trace of you out of my veins.
 Mar 2013 Alex Bautista
Tessa F
I like who I
Am when I
Am with
You.
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