They moved together restlessly
She with hesitation
He with impatience
She knew things he did not
He understood things she never would
Exploring, guiding, testing, discovering, tensing, releasing, breathing
He reached, touched
Her body smiled
He understood the where and when, cause and effect
Like a scientist mixing vital chemicals creating a reaction
She was carried on a wave
Despite herself
Despite what she knew, how it would end
He moved in ferocious tempo
Moved to unveil secrets
She stopped with
“Will the magic be gone?”
Hesitation, empty platitudes.
“When you see me, the magic will go “
He created a new wave
She let herself be distracted
Closed her eyes.
Let go.
As he looked, she dissolved into warm light.
She was gone.
He was grasping at shadows and light
She could see, not feel
He could touch but not see
Too far apart
Dimensions to cross
She knew this world of illusion
He understood transience of flesh
They moved slowly
To find a way either back or somewhere else
She with patience
He with disbelief
Exploring, reaching, holding, tasting, hoping, being.
Please take a few moments and check out this beautiful magazine, Bohemia. I am very happy to be included with such a lovely melange of images, poems, and stories.
battle to love
finding you
traversing the battlefield
obstacles in the way
it’s war, they say
between lovers
trying to find their way
choosing words, clothes, manners
carefully
but getting burned
all the while
by apathy or disgust, despair
loneliness being a spectre
the warzone becomes common ground
all parties equally lost
but searching
niceties set aside
for heartfelt declarations
there are no heroes
or Purple Hearts
just broken hearts and trails of tears
littering the path
to love
and sunshine
and a new day
when the rain washes away
the wounds
the battle scars remaining
as badges
to build dreams upon
rummaging
finally, I could write a little something
it’s starting to be like that cigarette
or that drink after dinner
or that late morning break at work
feels like the release I need
when I let the words out
of me
spilling over
sometimes pretty
like waves of lavender
or an impressionist portrait
sometimes horrid
like a haunted house
or a cubist tortured animal rendering
either way
I need it now
the relief tremendous
the writing
the words
rummaging through files
in my brain
nymph
barely a glimpse
before she disappeared
in the dark woods
like a mythical nymph
he stared long
into the gloom
hoping for a sliver of light
but she was gone
and he was left with memories
of butterfly wings
and fireflies
the taste of dusk
on his tongue
the cool grass under his feet
her warmth still tingling on his fingers
he stood at the edge of the forest
he would return often
searching for a myth
looking for a flash
of lost hopes and flavored dreams
his nymph
carrying his laugh away
and his heart bursting
at even the thought of her
The Word Rummager 