S15

Imagination
Like a bright blue ball spinning
Freely in the sky.

S14

Sometimes, words just aren't enough.

S13

Love, like a flower
Sharp pricking thorns with green leaves
Beauty lost deep within.

S12

Newborn Nebula
Born in the empty night sky
Eyes gaze at beauty.

S11

Sometimes I feel like my mind is melting and twisting into shape and colors that they aren't meant to twist and shape into. Then I realize "Life is Beautiful" and so are the thoughts and the shapes and the colors inside. Do not be afraid of them, let it all go, all of it, let it go. Reflect, remember, breathe, let it go. All part of the universe, all of us, including me.

S10

Connection,
pathways,
endless spirals.
Roaming round and round.

S9

Early morning frost
Wolf is peering from the mist
Is he friend or foe?

Top Down

Feather light kisses, whispers and words on the skin. Tingling promises on the spine. The two of them coming together as dancers in the night. Candle flames flickering casting shadow on the walls. Breathless sighs. Fingers trail down a thigh, across an arm, eyes close. Limbs tangled, acrobatics, moving together as one. Taste, touch, and thrill, ecstasy. Reaching fingers pulling down grasping at her top. Tugging, twisting, and wrenching it over her head. Mouth buried on skin, burning fire and passion. It rises higher like the candle flames flickering against the wall. Soft moan, back arching.

Quietly, she whispers “no.”

Looming Shadow

The girl walked quietly with her eyes on her feet, head bobbing in time to the music in her ears.

Dark clouds and thunderclaps, lightning strikes, raindrops falling on her skin like angel tears. None of this made a difference. The girl splashing through the puddles. She did not want it to end. Walking was her time to shine. Her destination comes much too quick. Pale hand trembling, blue veins, icy fingers reaching for the doorknob.

A looming shadow whispers, “I’ve been waiting here for you."

A scream and then silence. Her eyes never left her feet.

She wore red shoes.

Pity Fiddle

The lights had long been turned off and the people gone. Debris scattered the ground, candy wrappers, apple peels, sticky sweet sticks that had been shoved in the mouths of children. All of them tumbling in the warm breeze. A stage in the distance sat illuminated by the backdrop of a low hanging moon, full and shining. A young man sat and watched it. His legs swinging back and forth, a breeze picking up stray strands of his dirty blonde hair. The boy picked up the fiddle, brought it to his chin, and scraped the bow across the strings. A haunted melody of times past flowed from his fingers. A pity nobody could hear screams over sound.

I don't love you anymore.

Stolen dreams, goals, and plans that had been arranged neatly in rows of possibility. They shimmered much in the way stars do. Now, they are gone, all of them are gone. The hope that sparkled inside has dimmed and vanished. The secrets shared will be shared no more. The words they once spoke are now lost in void of time and space. The wind whispers through the trees carrying the message of destruction, of hopelessness, and of uncertainty.

All because of five little words.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

These five words are enough to wound even the toughest of souls.

A Clear Midnight - Walt Whitman

A Clear Midnight

This is the hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death, and the stars.

-Walt Whitman