Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
Each morning she grants me the unique privilege of providing a smile on her face
I know quite a bit about the simple things.
To watch her walk in and delight herself with the croissant of open lips
A splash or two of milk painting her smile.
I just might have to bring her breakfast one day
Just to return the favor
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
There is a sense of forever that's hidden in your eyes.
A sense that no matter how much time will pass.
A promise that no matter how random the thought.
That somehow, you will always be there.
That same funny laugh, that devious smirk that lets me know
that your about to do something silly.
No matter how much time shall pass.
It will always be there to take my mind off of what ever is going on.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
In the midst of conversation A question rose out of the blue,
What would I do if such opportunity were to arise.
In a conversation about long term goals without hesitation or notion
Without any specifics given to her question I asked what opportunity.
She laughed slightly and repeated the question.
This time reaching inside of her chest and pulling her heart into a closer view.
She waited for reply.
I wandered around the look in her eye glancing back down at a now throbbing heart.
She said well, In a topic of long term ambition show me that I am not wrong about you.
I trust you well enough to do exactly what I know your about to do.
She stated nothing further.
With that being said I'd like to think that I made the right decision.
The openness of conversing about any and everything, the hint that actions speak louder than words.
I did what I suppose any sane man would do.
I flung myself into her chest and landed dead in the center of her heart without fear of missing.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
You've crossed my mind many nights.
Sometimes I just lay there, holding you tight in mind.
Wandering your body with my hands.
Filling my fingers with the skin I've dreamt so much about.
The things you keep hidden. unraveled in empty sheets, blankets.
Your warmth becoming the only comforter that dictates whether or not I'll have sweet dreams.
What justifies the stain our breath has left on one another's.
The press of your face against my neck.
The marks left on each other in anticipation. Refusing to pull ourselves away.
Clinging tight to the ****** of being beside ourselves.
Deliberately keeping each other awake in the promise of sleeping wild moments later.
To watch your face scrunch up as it breaks your gasp. Bringing a halt to anticipation,
The comfort of bodies becoming pillows harboring us into a deep sleep. Soft, still.
My head laying on your shoulder.
As we ourselves become lost in the sheets
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
Her eyes widened,
Not once did I stop to notice that this was the first time
These words came from my mouth.
Through action yes but never once did I stop to pay attention that I've never said it before.
The words that caused this sudden hesitation.
I mean throughout the course of the day I've thought it.
But until I seen the look on her face it struck me.
Of all things how could I possibly forget that.
It wasn't at all a bad thing, as most silences accompany something bad,
Though silence filled the air the look on her face was in disbelief.
From that moment on I sort of questioned a lot of other things, the kind of things that lead to if I did or didn't.
I never was one to pay close attention to detail.
The subtle hints that I very well might have overlooked.
I suppose I do deserve to be hit in the back of the head
As she stopped in mid sentence, I suppose just as shocked as I was.
In the back of my mind I was really hoping that she wouldn't ball up her fist and hit me up side the head.
All things aside, I was never good at this type of thing and on a daily basis she deserves more than what I can give but she takes it all in stride.
But seriously I hope she doesn't hit me up side the head for taking this long.
She is a bit violent and on top of that she is a ******, going to get a step stool would only make her madder.
Her eyes now widened, eyebrows relived of any crinkle that stretched down to her nose.
Leaving me without a thing to say but the words again.
"I love you"
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
Her eyes were like a color by number.
Everywhere she stood they'd turn a different shade of brown.
Naturally they shone a different color soon as the sun would find them.
But this color was hard to describe.
Watching the sun paint them with a splash of yellow.
I'd just stand and stare. Often time it was hard to speak after seeing such a thing.
The effect it took on me, often inviting me in to have a drink.
Nestled in a chair to hear a story or two.
How they just seemed to come alive, her eyes.
Inebriated by the conversations we'd have.
She'd put a hand to her brow to block the sun from shining too bright.
I'd forget how sad they were at times, her eyes.
Taken by the stories they tell about her dreams. The excitement that filled them, Talking about the places she'd love to go.
Big and bright. Full of curiosity, her eyes.
If I could let her inside of me and give her the same box of crayons that she's given me.
I wonder if she'd color me in different colors.
Or just the same variation of different colors just as her eyes have colored me.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
There is a life lesson found upon your lips.
A secret to life transcendence.
No longer consistent to the thought of what happens next.
This is the value of your lips.
A connection of where dream becomes reality.
Curious to how a simple desire can find it's way to someday.
Some day equating to here, now, the comfort of knowing there is a vast well
of purpose.
A deep sense of need.
This is how I bumble across your lips.
Fumbling in anticipation.
A seminar that's somehow found it's way into everyday.
Lost in every word, taking those same words and placing them somewhere
where they mean much more.
This place is in my heart.
Immersing myself in the way that I see you.
Presenting myself in a way that contributes to constantly looking up.
The value of making myself present everyday.
Engaging my eyes in a way that you can't help but notice.
A innovative sense of passion.
Knowing to touch, taste.
This goes far beyond each throb that triggers my heart to beat a bit harder.
A tad bit faster.
Collectively, this same vast sensation is cause by you.
This pure breakthrough of appearing meek as I've humbled myself in the footnote of our next conversation.
Creating the insight that I now know why I bumble across your lips.
Finding that I was never inside of myself at all.
That I was merely on the outside, catching myself stare at you.
This crackle of electricity buzzing of a broken line.
As I've filtered everything out that isn't your voice.
Excited by the thrill of not knowing what to do with all this excitement that you've caused.
Relaxed in the way that the wire sizzles, knowing that nothing is wrong.
But instead, realizing that everything happens just as it's suppose to
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
There really isn't a reason to become complacent,
Don't worry about insecurity as there is no better time than now.
Regardless of what I am doing or what is going on there is always time.
What ever thought that attempts to pursue the angels from your shoulder.
What ever storm cloud that threatens the halo hanging above your head.
I'll be there to protect you in your time of need.
To reassure that the lightening you fear is just the sizzle of how comfortable my heart is, laying in the palm of your hand.
Though at times some thoughts will become mutual, just as I've been through some things.
I know you have too, and don't at all consider this a attempt to buy
or sway you of anything different.
Sculpting stone replication of you. Devoting my time making sure every feature is as close to perfect as possible.
What ever has happened before is just that, and would never constrict the blocks that I've placed around you to keep you safe.
Art takes on may a form and there will be no vandalism of any feature on you.
I admit, as each day grows shorter there is a high priority of what we make precious.
A small devotion of time stacked and organized to reach the height of eternity,
And with each day you grow more precious.
learning more about you. Stacking block against block until the realm of heaven is reached.
Seeing you for you and not just the hard exterior that you present to protect yourself from the world.
 
Choosing to instead loath in picture perfect representation of arms
Of the statue I've built of you.
Molding your smile in clay, soon to harden for all to see.
Folding your hands in ultimate prayer as the birds mock the many angels that float around your head.
Taking a minute only to rest in your arms, to continue building the rest of you
In due time.
Basking in just how precious you are
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
Inside there lays a sort of guilt.
Insuring that the electric company does their job.
The only problem is most nights there is never anything worthwhile watching.
I often question the receptacle, the thought of changing cable providers.
I thought of saving myself, turning the tv off and going to sleep.
But where's the fun in that.
Watching colors run frantically across the screen.
The flick of a button brings a different hue.
A different click of the screen lock checking for notifications, plugging my phone back on the charge.
By passing all the channels at least twice before finding a show that fills the 30 minute gap.
The hard part of favorite shows is that most time they come on when either there's not enough time. Or someone spoils the ending.
Either way here I am looking for something to devote my time.
And here I am, seeking
Some kind of reassurance that you'll return after the infomercials.
My new favorite show.
You
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
You are like the sea,
Truth be told there is no other way to put it.
The sound of silence covered in repeated sigh.
A total embodiment of things placed of collective wonderment.
What shall triumph the noise of wave overlapping wave.
Of all things calm you spread your presence,
Drowning in the bliss of serenity.
You and only you could create the quiet hush dreams are made of.
Although
Some tides are bigger than most, 
Of all times, not all are escapable.
Splashing against the shore in a bipolar like disorder.
Crushing everything it touches, selfish in nature.
For every action there is a natural reaction that displaces the initial action.
A need for finding peace in the eye of discord.
This is where your heart becomes a walking representation of the sea itself.
And I the jagged coast, cleansed of any disbelief that things won't get any better outside of the moment.
Pieces of myself lost in you. A constant movement no longer stagnant in thought. 
This is where I consider you the sea, the depth of your eyes covering everything it touches.
And I the boat lost in mid drift, without a care in the world.
A means of transportation exploring a depth of things I never knew to exist.
The things you keep hidden.
Far from the hindsight of eyes, your habits, things you reveal to be true given enough time.
The constant change that happens every moment of every minute.
Still it doesn't take away from it's beauty, the things kept hidden.
You are like the sea, 
A profound way of expression.
And I, the sailor. 
Watching the truth reveal, bit by bit.
Next page