#pairs
Peter, Charles and I were jetting our way to Paris. I’d just woken up. I had to *** so badly it woke me up. It was a medical emergency. I stretched and everything hurt, I felt like I was 30.
Peter was sitting next to me, on the aisle, reading. When he saw me stretch, he said, “Hey sleepyhead.” Ok, I didn’t actually hear him say it, we were all wearing noise canceling AirPods. I read his lips. I motioned that I needed to get up and he probably said “sure,” marking his place with his index finger and standing up in the aisle. I saw Charles watching us and I gave him a sleepy smile.
I’d made the Paris trip 20 times, at least, and I carry an indispensable little travel ****** bag. I removed my AirPods and put them in their case to recharge and used Neutrogena cleansing wipes before I splashed water on my face. Then I spritzed my face with Biologique L' Eauxygénante moisturizing mist. Finally, I applied Clinique lip balm. When I was done, I felt human. My watch said I’d slept for 2 hours.
On my way back to my seat I dropped by Charles, one row back from us and across the aisle.
“How you DOin?” I said.
For some reason Charles and I always greet each other like we’re the Sopranos. “I’m DOin’ ok,” he replied, giving me a little toast with his coffee cup, “You slept?”
“2 hours,” I said. I nodded at his coffee cup, and he handed it to me for a sip.
“Mmm” I said, handing it back. “It feels odd not sitting with you,” I told him, because, well, it did.
“Go on,” he said, giving me a little shoo-away gesture. “We’ll catch up in Paris.”
I gave him a gentle, backhanded tap on the shoulder as I left.
When I got back and Peter and I finished the whole seat-hopping bit, I tilted the book he was reading to see what it was. The title read ‘Thermodynamics and Control of Open Quantum Systems.’ I pantomimed a yawn and he smiled condescendingly.
I put my AirPods back in and the annoying, but necessary, jet noise vanished. The little jet on my seat display indicated we had about 5 hours to go, but I had my Kindle (500 books), my iPad (games, apps, the slow Internet), my Nintendo Switch (Animal Crossing and Zelda), my phone and, of course, the movies and series offered on the seat panel in front of me.
Then, I remembered the two Cinnabons and Honeydew melon Boba Teas in my backpack. The flight attendant passed and asked if we needed anything.
“Can I get a large cup of ice, please?” I enquired. She nodded, making a ‘be right back’ finger motion.
It’s not like we have to row this jet. Why do people complain about air travel?
Aug 13, 2023
Aug 13, 2023 at 8:24 AM UTC
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.
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 2:05 PM UTC
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.
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 6:42 AM UTC
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.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
He was the weeds
standing next to a Rose.
@)--'--,---
@)--'---,----
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
Are we not the pairs
Meant to walk side by side
Together, holding hands
Clenched tighter
Completely intertwined, inseparable
Or are we just a season
that fades into the winds
when the nightfall arrives?
I hope we are meant for each other
through the hardness or happiness
like the petals
and thorns on a rose
waiting until the end
For their destiny to perish
@jobiranyc (10/6/2017)
Oct 6, 2017
Oct 6, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
Love.
Evil.
A conjugate pair.
True partners in crime.
Be careful,
But don't stop moving forward.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
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 !
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
I seem to have slipped,
My mind has missed a beat,
For what happened today,
Was quite a simple feat.
The odd pairs of fandoms
Are not spoken of, at best
Alas, I love one of them,
But should have given it a rest.
The pair went into my grade,
A short story that I wrote.
It was all nice and dandy,
Until I almost had a stroke.
My teacher saw my ship,
And looked at my confusedly.
All I knew to do,
Was apologize profusely.
She didn't quite understand it,
But grade still turned out well.
Ah well, it's not horrible,
But class may now be hell.
If you ship an odd couple,
Do not let it show,
Because fandom and reality are quite different,
Trust me--I should know.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
A single helical strand twists randomly in the wind
All that steadies the twisting are the aetheric strings
Connected to base pairs...adenine...thymine...
Those strings steady the storms
But where do they lead
Where any path leads of course
And our destination is always our Self
That's how we know when we've arrived
We mirror back to our other Self exactly what We are
Adenine's other self is thymine
We live in duality
Until we're ready to leave that duality and become...
who we are
Non-dual
Citizens
of
Gaia
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC