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Peter (my bf) and I were in Paris, about three weeks ago (I was on Spring break, he was on vacation from work).
‘Headstart for Happiness,’ by ‘the Style Council,’ was playing low somewhere.
“This is the kind of starry winter night that guy from the Netherlands used to paint,” I observed.
“If you were writing about it,” he asked, “how would you describe it?”
“Imagine a deep, still blue, hosting a field of luminescent light scatter, and a bashful moon, low in the sky, as if it were hiding in the trees.” I guessed.
“It’ll moonset soon,” he said “within the hour.” he added.
“I never think of moonsets.” I said, looking at the sky like it was new.
“The moon follows the line of the ecliptic,” he said, as if that meant something, “more or less,” he qualified.
“To think I grew up under an undifferentiated sky,” I marveled.

When I’m with him, I can relax, I don’t have to be-on, he’s smart enough.
Of course, I’d come in handy if he went into cardiac arrest or started choking on something.

Like puppets dance, we often mimic lines - I don’t know why.
We were sitting side by side, outside ‘Le Café du Marché,’ a bistro near the Eiffel Tower. Our waiter,  Léo, had just refilled our coffee. It was 9:30 PM and we’d been at this table for about two hours.

We’d reduced the tarte-tatin to a few crumbs forty minutes ago, but Léo knows me and although they're thirty tourists in line for tables, he won’t rush us.

“I was stalking you,” I confided, running a finger along his long-sleeve shirt-cuff.
“I was stalking you,” He said. Our eyes were fixed on each other.
“No, seriously,” I said, moving in much closer, to be serious.
“No, seriously,” He deadpanned back.
“Then I caught you,” I went on, and I was very close now, our lips maybe two inches apart.
“No, I caught you,” he said, smiling as I got very close. “It was ****** Jujitsu,” he softly bragged.
“Wax on, wax off,” I said before I stole a quick kiss.

Peter was shocked, a scooch, by French teens.
If French teens have a crush, especially in Paris, it’s a ‘drop what you’re doing,’ snog-fest - between classes in the hall, on-the-metro, in a coffee shop or grocery store they go-all-in, because love must be stormy, urgent, tinchy.
Here’s a secret. Peter says, “You **** my face, like no one ever has.” It must be the French in me. Ha!

Of course, I learned all I know about love from Taylor Swift.
Let’s see, first, I must be willing to let down my guard - because love can happen at any time.
Love, at its best, is overwhelming, mistake prone, meaningful and powerful - but I can’t assume it’ll last, because my lover may have ulterior motives. I could be hurt or changed by the experience - but I’ll have the memories. Eventually though, I’ll heal enough to try again - with a new set of expectations.

Maybe I’ll even write a song or a poem about it.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Ulterior: motives kept hidden to achieve a particular result.

tarte-tatin  = an apple **** with caramelized apples on the bottom, flaky pastry on top. YUM
scooch = a little
stormy = extremely passionate
tinchy = twitchy, reflexive
Shley Mar 25
I never could've known the life we'd have
When we were young and drunk on discovery.

When you walked into my life like light flooding a room,
I never could've imagined what we'd build together.

As I hold the children you gave me in my arms,
The culmination of our intertwined hearts,
I feel so rich and full and satisfied.

I didn't know then, but I know now, just how beautiful it is to open your heart to another.
Anais Vionet Mar 17
Peter (my bf) had to fly,
was that just last night?
I have attachment issues.
I hate saying goodbye
- it always makes me cry
an embarrassing tear or two.

Holidays go so fast
relativity’s been proven at last!
Fourteen days of leisure
of sordid intertwined pleasures
on days free of study pressures.

This morning i was in despair
splayed out on an uncomfortable chair
with tangled, unbrushed hair
wearing faded PowerPuff underwear
bored, and wishing Peter was there.
selina Feb 28
i hate how you're so utterly perfect
i wonder if other people also notice it
how your scattered freckles mimic the stars
little dipper's tail has made home by your lips

i hate your contagious smile, that look in your eyes
for your perfect boyfriend and his indie rock band
i am no longer myself; i am hopelessly tossing coins
and wishing to hold a constellation in my hand
nothing special
Noa Adler Jan 30
I am yours, as you are mine,
Guide me gently, love me do.
State your wish, and I'll comply,
I would fetch the moon for you.

When I look into your eyes,
Every wound I have is soothed,
And my soul is purified.
Every inch of me is true.

We've no sins left to deny,
Everything we have been through.
Every scar our joy and pride,
Hands caressing black and blue.

Give me shelter by your side,
Pull me closer, just us two,
Heart to heart, together, tied,
Weaving ourselves something new.
Haylin Dec 2023
The color blue has always been just that to me - a color. A plain, unremarkable hue that I never thought twice about. It was the same as any other color - no different than the color of a dull pen or the gray skies on a rainy day. It was a common color that I had seen a million times before in a million different eyes.

But then I met you.

Suddenly, the color blue took on a whole new meaning. It was no longer just a color but a reflection of the depths of your soul. Your eyes were like pools of shining ink spread across plain pages, filling chapters of my life with every glance. They were like a bright summer horizon that expanded before me, stretching as far as the eye could see. They were like a vast, infinite ocean of sparkling blue, and I found myself willingly drowning in your color.

Your eyes are not just blue - they are a world of their own, filled with depth and meaning that I never knew existed. They are a window into your soul, and every time I look into them, I feel like I am seeing a new part of you that I never knew existed.

They are the color of your laughter, your joy, your love, and your pain. They are the color of all the things that make you who you are, and I am grateful every day that I get to see them.
A M Ryder Dec 2023
I want to be
Your ex boyfriend's
Stuntman and do
All of the things
He never had
The courage to do
Like trust you
Em Dec 2023
sometimes being with him feels like im drowning
waves in my stomach crashing
the tides rise and fall in my chest
cause of death: i was obsessed
wept too many tears
caused myself to drown in a planet of my own fears
haven't written in a while I just wanna get all my thoughts out even if they may make more sense in my head
Lindsay Hardesty Oct 2023
You told me you didn’t want us to have any words left unsaid that night, so I told you everything, but over-thinkers like us can never really leave a conversation with everything on the table.
I didn’t tell you thank you, thank you for making me want to be the best version of myself, and for making me feel butterflies I thought were dead forever.
I’ve had to keep my mind busy, for when it stops I always find my thoughts displaying our memories like art in a museum, I keep racing to the door, but it’s locked and I can’t escape, I feel trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.
If you’re reading this I have only one more thing to say, it doesn’t come with subtext or any expectations, I just want to say I miss you.
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