Did she notice,
when she walked down into my eyes
that my sight stole my voice?
To return in stuttered, half compliments
of flitting words.
too flimsy to hold the heart.

Did she notice my staring gaze,
my eyes, casting timid glances
while I searched myself for eloquent words
to tell her my knees were weak,
and my heart was beating
with good dishonourable intentions.

Wrapped in midnight
and pink hued sunset horizons.
Hiding some and alluding to others,
the woman curved beneath the clothes.

Her hair up, in golden silk curls
to celebrate tonight
with full passioned lips
smacking of sultry invitations,
and drowning deep sea eyes.
Sporting a breathless smile
and black heels.
While I feel so ordinary and tedious,
dressed in my fine suit
and matching offsets.

She takes my hand
so everyone can see
that she is mine.
And now I am alive.

How beautifully she shines;
beyond the limit of the eyes
to the scope of the heart
and the extent of the soul,
that see in different dimensions
than sights' perception can go.
To unmask the splendor
behind the face.

For this is what pulls the strings
of my surrendering;
A man and clothes
may make each other,
but a woman
will make him feel it.

So innocently devious
in naive treachery.

More than a fancy walk
Could steal a man's glance
And invite a sparkling collar.
Or soft spoken passion compel the flesh
To gratify its hot appetite.

To speak elegantly of this and that,
And trap me in the stillness of your voice.
All the while you trickle down my vein
And melt away my heart's wall.
Brick by brick,
To my very foundation.

How freely you throw out these kind gestures
That hang me from your words,
And fill my head with empty waiting thoughts.
How carelessly you stole this
From under my ribs,
With a sideways eye and a smile
held in soft lips.
To dance across the room
And ****** it with a whisper.

Beautiful thief.

there will always be you and her;
her, by vows and bands tied to me in  
years and pledges  
and you, undeniably etched into  
me like fingerprints on my soul  

and i have tried  
until fingers and wrists bled raw and numb  
to scrub you from my bones,  
spread my ribs and unwind you from around  
my spools and gears, unthread you from  
my fibers, but you are too intricately  
entangled into my workings  
to remove you would be to remove myself  
and i have tried  

so fate would have me split on both  
sides of a coin, always being  
both but never really either  
together and alone  
contented and longing  
whole and fractured  
but never truly complete, one  
half always diminishing the other  

There will always be you and her

I wonder how it feels.
To be snuggled ever so precisely.
Skin to skin, like neurons to synapses, sparking, firing pure pleasures of love, for the mate of my soul.

A wonder it is to feel.
I imagine us to be synchorinzed in such way, that thoughts are completed. Actions are known. He will see the truth even when unshown.

Blissful wonder, I long to feel.
The absence of something unfamiliar, but nostalgic.
I feel him present now, forever near, yet ever eluding.

My intertwines long for, aches for, to feel, his touch, yet it remains unknown.
His lips, sun, unkissed.

I wait in wonder.
Not for completion, but for a reunion.
Not of family, but of the one,
kin of my Soul.

your wounding actions was a whole book to me
and that hurts me
i fell in love with the wrong person
and that hurts me
i stayed with someone who wasn't good for me, but i was too blinded by love to try and leave
and that hurts me.

One fine day,
I witnessed a blessing
A blessing of a feeling
Greater than love and friendship.

A union of souls
With mutual respect, they hone
Sparks of trust of devotion
Bloomed amidst their emotion
        Of love and friendship
  Sealed with their lips.

you left
and suddenly i realised
why we started naming storms
after people.

My eyes remind you of sunflowers
I say you’re my sun
What truth lay in these words

For my eyes show a glimpse
Of times long forgotten
Indeed in a past life it was so  

Like a flower of the field; your warmth I seek
My sun I will follow
At night how I twist and turn
in anticipation of your dawns break

My sun I will follow, until I can no longer
Feeble, my last petal drops  
Back here I will meet you

In your eyes we will meet again
For they will show me a glimpse
of times long forgotten

It’s you, my dear,  
The phantom of my heart,  
The nameless figure  
That haunted my mind,  
The one I’ve loved  
All this time.

Hidden deep within,  
My perfect secret.  
My soul called out,  
Searching for you  
In the space  
That does not exist.

For you were an ideal,  
My antidote to heartache.  
The one I met  
In ghostly hours  
Of the night.

I know you like an old lover,  
Though I knew not  
Who you were.  
Heart attuned to mine,  
For that was your dwelling.

It’s you, my dear,  
The phantom of my heart,  
The nameless figure  
That haunted my mind,  
The one I’ve loved  
All this time.

The grand ambition of love is to find “the one.”
and, of course, to be the one.

It’s a hard combo.

Finding someone amiable, who’s the best lover, your best friend,
confidant, emotional companion, intellectual equal and soulmate.

And, of course, it helps if ‘the one’ likes to dance
and has a little piña colada money too.

And when do you know you've been successful - in year 50?

It’s the holy grail, the age-old dilemma of love and desire.
.
.
A song for this:
Bullet and a Target by Citizen Cope
Wait Another Moment by The Bingtones