I
cannot remember
how friendly conversations
evolved into loving embraces.
It must have been the oriental
spice of your perfume,
exotic meshed with ******,
or the lullaby rhythm of your voice,
soft soaring syllables,
that lured me to you.
Or,perhaps it was our time,
past lovers long passed.
Nightly, I lay cradled
against your S-shaped curves,
******* touching *******,
intertwined into
oneness.

life wears on, time flies bythe music is playing in only the greatest of momentsand so seldom, we hear these subtle notesso seldom, we hear these deafening notesA small child, I play lightheartedlythe music is playing, but i dont even noticetoo caught up in whats happening forgetting what actually mattersi grow older, sixteen at lastthe music is playing, blasted loudly in the cartrying to forget the stupidest mistakestrying to go back to the good old dayswhat happened to the good old days?

These words of mine
I wish these words
could walk off this page
and travel across lands
and bodies of water
to encounter another,
sending a bit of myself elsewhere
even if I cannot physically do so myself.

These words of mine
I wish these words
to be at least somewhat inspiring,
to touch someone's heart and soul
or to at least make them think,
and help them to make meaningful words of their own.

These words of mine
Maybe one could visualize them,
or hear them without my voice,
smell the fragrance of their worth,
taste the salty and the sweet on their tongue,
like a concoction unfamiliar, yet palatble.

These words of mine
Perhaps they will never win accolades,
or thunderous applause,
but they have merit
for they are from the heart
and soul...
These words of mine.

and so it is-

what it wasn't

or as it may have been


if things were not as they are

but more as they were

or as they never were at all


perhaps more so-

as they could have been

in time... or not...


Perhaps.