Shadows of Quixotic

OLD:

Finally, they were together. Simply existing in the same space, with a connection that couldn’t be felt because it was purely known, inherent within each of them. She was both incredulous and completely unsurprised at the same time.

Everything simply felt comfortable and right. She turned to face him, and looked into his eyes in the dark. They kissed, softly and sweetly first, then with a stronger passion, a fiercer desire. Her fingers ran through his hair. His hands on her back held her close to him.

He made her feel beautiful without saying a word.

She loved the soft weight of his arm draped across her waist as they lie still together. In the darkness, she could feel the comforting pressure of his stomach pressing against her lower back as he inhaled. This was a confirmation of his existence and hers, and a silent testimony to their intimacy. His breath gently caressed her neck as he exhaled.

With every breath she was assured.

In these moments of quiet darkness, she felt completely at peace. She did not sleep, but lay awake with her eyes closed, savoring every moment of that feeling of safety. She didn’t want to dream; she wanted to keep feeling his presence next to her. The silence enveloped them. For once, her thoughts did not attack the silence with a cacophony of doubts and insecurities. It was no wonder she wanted the moment to last.

She sank into the physical and emotional comfort of him.

His hand held hers, his thumb stroking her palm. The warmth of his touch told her the past was going away. She smiled behind closed eyes. Every inch of her body was completely at ease and simultaneously tingling with the pleasure of sensing his body right behind her and his arms around her. His embrace was a safe place. That was enough for her. He was more than enough.

Now they sleep apart and she wonders if he thinks about her as much as she thinks about him. She wonders if she cares too much. If she’s too stuck on one person, who is only one person, but is the person who is making such a difference. She wonders if she should just stop worrying. She doesn’t know and she’s trying to simply trust what she’s got, even if that hasn’t always worked out in the past. She’s living now. Loving now. And not losing now.

6.26.08

Green Screen Love

OLD:

It was green screen love. Behind any background we chose, free through the wires and the ether. So much easier to talk in typed words, planned and replanned in head and then on screen. A blinking cursor, encouraging, a mediator between us. Each of us called by that simple signal.

It was green screen love. Our words fell honest and open behind the safety of hardware and light and thousands of miles and three hours time difference brought to mere milliseconds apart, with the stroke of a key. And as if our screens back to back didn’t bring us close enough, though we could never be close enough, your words brought you closer to me, and mine to you.

It was green screen love. Or was it love? It was not anger, or hatred, or malice that drove us apart. It was presence. I know not even exactly what that means, but the words know they are right.

It was green screen love. Or at least, at the very least, green screen attraction. But in the presence of one another, something changed. Well, you changed. My feelings are now unrequited. And let me tell you, unrequited love is a bitch and a half. It attacks multiple times over in ways I never expect in every waking moment, when I turn a corner or when I’m just sitting still.

It was green screen love. I believe that it was, whatever it is now. And for the sake of how much I love you, and for my hopes that such love won’t go to waste, because I have a fear of loving in the first place… I hope you can learn to love me back.

It was green screen love. And it is very difficult to come away from that malleable safety net into a real world, with scenery that changes only when you leave one place and journey somewhere else. It is hard, but not as hard as loving you, which is equally as hard as trying not to love you, trying to hate you, which I thought would be easier.

It was green screen love. This is where I have retreated, to express my voice, as I know not where else to turn. The Freudian typo “run” just slipped from my fingers without my consent. But you know all about the rogue fingers.

It was green screen love. Perhaps that’s all, for you. But I am lost; I have fallen. I fell for you and have not gotten up and it’s hard here at the bottom, because I came here with you and expected to soar to the top but fell off of the flight even harder almost as soon as we took off.

It was green screen love. And from this screen, through this lens, the journey is far from over.

--9.3.08 1:12 am

Sharper

You peel off me like pencil shavings

Leaving me a little smaller each time

But more pointed, ready to attack.

Then I do, with my mighty sword

And leave myself feeling dull and useless.

I don't even know what I'm writing anymore

But I can't stop - the shavings keep falling away.

I used to give you professions of love

All I hoped we'd be, and thought we were.

But I couldn't keep writing the same thing forever

Had to change, mighty sword sabotaged itself.

Bleeding my own blood, tasting me, isn't the same

And I miss you.

--4.15.09

Irises

I think you and I took better pictures.

(I was always good at taking pictures.)

But

You two have the same eye color.

I guess that means you belong together.

My brown eyes

(Always brown; they never change)

Used to stare into yours,

But green no more sees brown

Green sees only more green.

And mine (brown, still)

See only pictures.

--4.14.09

Urban Dreams

Rainy days in New York

Are still as romantic

(In my imagination)

As they were a year ago.

Umbrella flowers bloom

On the grey, shimmering streets

Brightening the tightly-carved rivers

While yellow fish splash quickly by.

The Village still hums

Times Square still glows

The Brooklyn Bridge still pulses

I love rainy days just like the others.

I'm a walker

Subway rider

Taxi dodger

Urban explorer.

--4.12.09