Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ghost queen Jul 2020
It was cold, windless as we walked along the Seine towards Ile-de-la-Cite. The city had wound down, as people settled in for the weekend. The sky losing its light, turning navy, almost black, l’heure bleue, what the French called twilight, when one sneaks away to meet their lover.

The snow fell, slow, light, a delicate flurry, as the street lights flickered on, their orange yellow glow barely illuminating the ground below. We walked arm in arm, as she readjusted and tighten her hold so as not to slip. She felt good on my arm, in my arms, right as rain, as if made for each other, like interlocking jigsaw puzzles.

We walked in silence, our looks and smiles saying more than words. She radiated a beauty, a nubility like no other, match only by that of Aphrodites.    

The flurry thicken, as we cross le Petite Pont to Ile-de-la-Cite. I sensed a reluctance and heaviness in Seraphine’s step as we crossed over the slowly flowing waters of the Seine. It was late. She was tired, I assumed, from all the evening’s dancing, and now the walking to her flat at Place Dauphine.  

We walked past the square in front of Notre Dame. It was empty, and covered with a velvet blanket of white snow. It was surreal, the emptiness of the square, the majestic towers of the belfry contrasting against a gray white sky, the falling snow, the yellow of the sodium lights, softly illuminating the scene.

I walked us to the entrance of the square, and sat us down on a bench at the entrance of La Crypte Archéologique. We chatted about the dance, the evening, and how fun it had been. I told her I occasionally worked in the Crypte overseeing and helping the excavation the Lutèce layer, but spent most of my time at Musée Carnavalet doing administrative work or Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève doing historical research.

In silence, we looked in wonder and awe at Notre Dame. Seraphine snuggled tighter against me. I wrapped my arm around her, looking into he eyes. She was preternaturally beautiful, bewitching and lethally seductive. I felt as if I had no power to resist her, like a moth to a flame. I placed my hand on her cheek, and drew her in, kissing her, light and gentle as an 8 pm church bell rang in the distance. We kissed more intensely. Her breath getting harder and heavier. She put her hand behind my neck, pressing me into her, as she ****** my tongue into her mouth, harder and harder, till it hurt. Surprised by her lust, I pulled back, when I heard the 9 pm bell, the last of the evening, ringing.

I was confused, disoriented, as if I’d just woken up. I just heard the 8 pm bell as we started to kiss. Now it was 9. And my tongue, it was sore; my mouth had the metallic taste of blood. She’d gotten carried away and ****** hard, drawing blood. But I felt oddly calm. She said it was late and should get home. I stood up, took her hand and walked towards her flat. Her parent must be rich or noble, as Ile-de-la-Cite is too expensive for the masses.

At the door of the courtyard of Place Dauphine, she told me she had fun, looked deep into my eyes, gave me a light kiss on the lips, entered the code on the number pad, and disappeared into the darkness of the courtyard garden.
Tommy Randell Feb 2020
I look down and see a pair
Others see two odd ones
What I can see is clearly there
To them is just as clearly wrong

Such is life in all its aspects
Such is class, race, and creed
I see beauty, they see defects
They hear defiance, I sense need

I keep my socks mixed in a jar
I know exactly where they are
They fit my feet and that's enough
I don't even have to look

Not worried about the colour
Don't care about the spots
Socks see themselves as brothers
That the other is not lost

It's a sockism
All socks are foot-shaped
It's a truism
Life is better pair-shaped
True
The Calm Jan 2020
Poems about love,

Walking through an evergreen forest
Leaves of yellow and orange and red
The morning sky bursting through the canopy as we sit in our tent drinking coffee
Excited with what today's hike will bring
When you love nature you always want to be close it
Because I love you , I always want to be close to you
The engagement ring in my pocket gives me inspiration
I want to be as tough as the diamonds that crown its head
I want to be for you, as consistent and unending as the ring itself
So here we are, getting closer to nature, closer to each other.
You, unaware of even how much closer, I want to get to you.


Hues of black and blue with ambient lights of vintage setting.
Nights in Paris and Marseilles near the water,  candles lighting our dinner,
The flame giving my eyes the gift of seeing your beautiful face.
Cheese and grapes, chocolate and wine
Yet, the only taste I crave is that of your lips
To smell your perfume and touch your smooth skin.
Your smile , rivaling every star in the night's sky
Your soul, lecturing the moon on how to glow
Your heart, teaching me how to pray.
Because you exist, I know there must be a God out there.
Because you are here with me. I must pray, that God allows me to stay.

Bright lights and tall buildings as far as the eye can see.
We walk along the Hudson hand in hand.
We keep each other warm.
The autumn winds are cold but I hold your hand in mind. your sweet precious fingers grasp mine
You may not notice it, or maybe you do?
You stare into the horizon but here, I pull you close
I kiss you, as if we were in a movie
Nothing in the world do the Angels pay closer attention to than this kiss
Because as I surely live, so would I die for you.
As surely as my heart beats, it skips a beat when I am with you.
The uniVerse Jul 2019
I have a box
of socks
but singles
not pairs
who cares?
- for the lost and lonely
I do
I kept you
close to heart
in a box
my socks
I wore you once
or twice
or more
before
you saw
the light
no more.
I tried to pair
you off
at what cost
to end up in a drawer.
I swore
I still cared
for singles
as well as pairs
but in a box
my socks
remain
the lost
the slain
some souls
have holes
that can't
be darned
once love
is lost
and spurned
we hide
our hearts
inside
a box
like socks
discarded.
For who cares
for socks
without pairs?
I do.
Patty P Jul 2018
.
He was the weeds
                                            standing next to a Rose.
                                                           ­                           @)--'--,---
    
                     ­                                                                @)--'---,----
Opposites attract
sunshine Oct 2017
lucky things
come in pairs
except you
you came in one
no need for a pair
because I was
the missing piece
you needed
Riptide Sep 2016
Love.
Evil.
A conjugate pair.
True partners in crime.
Be careful,
But don't stop moving forward.
Mohammad Skati Jan 2015
Barefooted is not good ,so                                                                                       A pair of shoes helps in any season ...                                                                     People rush to buy the best and the highest qualities                                            Even if their prices are like pyramids ...                                                                 I don't understand this rush towards                                                                      All different kinds of pairs of shoes ...                                                                     There are people who are ready to buy                                                                 The whole shoes' stores                                                                                            At any price !
Next page