You descended from the ground
and took your
position
in front of me.

I looked at you out the corner of my eye.
I was staring a little.
My left shoulder was interested.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.

Time had moved.
Space had moved.
And the left shoulder screamed your name
How odd.
How interesting.
How cool.
But my left shoulder was
disappointed.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.

And so reality
advanced.
And my left shoulder
Breathed your name
(amongst others)
And then shrieked
As our existence
Touched again.
Somersaults and
Acrobats
How glad my left shoulder
became.
But soon we advanced again.
I thought
time may touch us soon.
My right shoulder
didn't care.

Serendipitous
and a bit convenient.
Our paths cross like
amorous lovers.
My left shoulder
burst into flames.
And then wet itself.
I planned to see you again.
My right shoulder didn't
care.

We spoke
We wrote
We become aware of our greater
existence.
My left shoulder
had relaxed
but was still interested.
You were odd.
You were interesting.
You were cool.
Now my right shoulder
Looked up
and stared.

Then we began to chat
To speak wanton thoughts.
And released
the beasts.
We didn't notice
The carnage.
And my left shoulder hid away.
And I tried to ignore.
And my right shoulder stood forth.

Salai
Sweet and seductive
Salai.
You knew before me.
You had no choice.

But whether through my left
or my right.
Or just me.
I will always find you
Secretive and sensual,
Strange Salai.

There's a funny sort of emptiness
that passes over me
as I walk past the paperback erotica that tuck themselves away
in the shelves of the local grocery store in places that are
simultaneously completely out in the open yet completely ignored
looking, as I do, with mock casual interest
and unfeigned disdain.
Who are these intended for, really?
Are they for the snuggly-wuggly, *****, cozy-woozy, wishy-washy and warm family of four
comparing chicken nugget prices and
weighing the health benefits of
vegetable medley versus succotash?
Or are they for the uni flatmates
walking huddled together for warmth or protection or both,
seeing as they're wearing only sandals and denim shorts
and this is the first time
they've been grocery shopping without mum,
that giggle loudly together to mask how homesick they really are
while they compare the calories in
Campbell's versus Progresso.
They went with Progresso if you were wondering.
Or are they meant for those who are cooking for one?
For those who have no need to compare prices
or calories
out loud.
For those who are well acquainted
with the old, familiar tiled aisles
as they have no one to take out to dinner.
Is this where they are to find company?
Betwixt the pages of a badly penned,
lighter than marshmallows,
more shallow than the kiddie pool,
more transparent than Casper,
not-good-enough-to-be-******-compost
"literary" garbage?
Is this -assumed- female
supposed to curl up with one of these slabs of drivel
and feel **** and aroused
in her baggy sweats and ill-fitting hoodie
after she ate a microwaveable chicken *** pie all by her lonesome?
As a single girl who often cooks for one,
I am offended by this.
Personally,
I think Lestat is ten times sexier than Edward,
Salai is way cuter than Fabio,
and Christian Grey couldn't S Mr. Rochester's D.
What I'm saying is-
Grocery Stores.
YOU are the primary reason for this pathetic f-ckery.
Everything else in the store can be compared for quality.
So why not apply that same knowledge
to the book arena.
Signed,
A Concerned Shopper
p.s. Please extend the validity date on the chicken *** pie coupon. Thank you!

She started out some years ago

the wife of a friend of mine.

The lady’s name was Lisa,

and she was a Florentine.

Through all of my commissions

She followed me through time.

Lisa Gherardini

had a shy and secret grin.

I remember when she sat for me,

the light was perfect then,

But something less than perfect

Was the aspect of her eyes.

She had a stigmatism

That my art could not disguise.

Last night, lying there with Salai

my apprentice and my love.

I looked into his eyes

and was inspired from above..



I hurried to my studio

And burned the midnight oil

This time Salai sat for me

in the same pose as the girl.

.

The result I deem perfection,

I will keep her till I die..

I’ll never sell this mystery girl

That has my lovers’ eyes.