Sometimes, I'd think that I missed it.
All the late-night conversations,
good morning "I love you"s,
glances exchanged in the halls,
awkward smiles,
adorable nicknames,
that bracelet.

But I don't wear that bracelet anymore,
not since you starting doubting all we had.

When the good morning texts were just typed,
sitting there with the send button unpressed.
When we started avoiding each other in the halls
because we couldn't bear to see the other's face.
When those awkward smiles we'd exchange
turned into just plain awkward.
When the adorable nicknames went away.
When that bracelet just sat there,
on my dresser instead of my wrist.

Sometimes, I thought I missed the way we were.
But now I know, we're better off the way we are.

Lucious
Simple cares, simpler fires
Finally a call to his
Where the living is only higher...

Real, the truth though
Sight and smell, makes baby's
Hearing and taste, makes daughter's
Skin and well... psychic is a boy's seems

Careful beginnings
Would a sharing land agree?
Peace was but beauty, curious and cunning
The dote of avarice, does it silent thee?

Long decision's to find fun
Fun, for a solitary reason
Fresh is an art, to these wonder
Mercy is a power, to these a season...

With the voice of a calmer world
Silent was the choice, a chance's cause
Caring for nothing, but greater courage
Than all of a wish made, by what was living with the odd's...

Simple
Easy does it
Break for now, only if will
Secrets in love, begin to wit

The rhythm of voices
Sated to defer, to the difference of occults
When enamored becomes romance, are we ready to seek choices?
Of clamor and sincerity, to direct a chance to what will...

Exception, in time
To wonder abroad, to a definitive course
Of stares worth the older, history is mine
With a song in our heart, is actuality ever worse?

Looking the misery of another, if not its mystery...
Was a facade of hereafter, the notion of decency?
Alive, and making the time of a wishes intimacy
Do I have one more smile? yes, yours for poignancy

We were on a 2nd floor garden terrace. The three-quarter moon was doing its best to set a romantic, gin-mood, pouring a soft pastel-blue on the world, that softened hard edges.

A cool breeze wafted jasmine scents from a nearby tea-olive tree. We were alone, the only sounds were far off footsteps and my pounding heart. Wasn’t this romantic?  

Fueled twice by desire I had dressed carefully and modestly, with just a subtle, but fancy, hint of sluttiness. My costume, carefully vetted by a company of five, calculating, non-virgins, was designed to be both alluring and as abstruse as Kleenex. I was a doll dressed, painted and scented to ******. Wasn’t I romantic?

We’d never kissed before, and I wanted him to kiss me with an almost moaning force of will. I brushed my skirt down and checked that my hair was in place with quick, fleeting hand motions that could have been butterflies in the reflected light.

We were sitting close together, I could feel his warmth, but nothing was happening and then, as nothing continued to happen, I began to fret, to sag, what was the glitch? Maybe..

I felt a warmth, his breath, I looked up and he kissed me, gently, then moved back a little. I smiled. I wanted to laugh, to shout, to jump around like my team had won the Superbowl, but I was very still, lest I scare him off. Oh, there were butterflies somewhere.

He’s smart. His mind probes the infinite but sometimes neglects the immediate. I wasn’t expecting a smooth move from someone who’s all knees, thumbs and elbows but, hey, I’m capable, and willing, to learn.

Were we lovers
Or only good friends
I still don't know
Although in the same timezone
But somehow always in different seasons
We seem to miss one another
Like ships passing in the night
You seem to be doing well
Or so your pictures say
One never knows with you
Using your smile as a guise
But your eyes give you away
You are more transparent than you think
Wrapped in cellophane you are

Some random people are stuck in my head. They smiled at me and disappeared. Just transient smiles. I don't know why I recall them ten years later.

My eyes cant cry a river, so it just rains a puddle

if you'll look into its water you'll find, a huddle
of colours. A rainbow imperfect

Of the smiling yellows and the joyful reds

of the calming green, that had spread
like the mist over those meadows serene.

The painful black, the somber grey, had also found a way,
to enter my rainbow green

But for the sun that you lit in the sky of my eyes, a thousand such eclipses can I take.

I thought my dusk was eternal, and only the night was waiting ahead,

but for this sudden morning when my 15 yo self, came crawling out from being dead

give me a hundred lashes, and more I won't care,

for I'm still at my prime, I'm still singing and laying and whistling and running, in my dreamy flowery bed.