You are scruffy, slightly dusty, and have rather floppy hair. You have that boyish smile, those ceaseless hands, that enigmatic stare. I smile when I see you. Because I like you, just this way.
This strange understanding of you penetrates my inner chambers, makes me want to cover myself, hide the fragile state of my soul from your gaze. I see you far too clearly, which in turn, seems to expose hidden parts, of myself.
My hearts trembling beat. Unsteady feet. Peering at your photo like a guilty conscience aware of my repeating patterns. Your eyes are speaking so I like to listen, and blush.
It’s your eyes I notice. Slightly weary, slightly wise. Slightly able to hypnotize. Slightly jaded slightly glad a little bit happy, a little bit sad.
I love the startled squirrel. The never done. The fiercely focused. The secret smiling. The sentimental. The wise-ass and the wicked. The endlessly committed. The motor-head. The never led. The shy glance. The take-that-chance. The reckless and the rumpled. The salty and the startled. The learner and the learned. The religious but not converted. TheContinue reading “Aspects of you”
He may never know how many of my hardest stories end with his laughter echoing in my head; reassurance that the sun will always find me. His gaze captured like a photograph, against the soundtrack of my beating heart. His hands forever linked, in my memory, with the word grace. Foolishly, his voice became my touchstone.Continue reading “Wishing on another lucky star”
Piercing eyes a tilted chin and questions not spoken but sensed. There are stories inside you.
Beautiful man, Your fingers make restless patterns unseen, but intricate. You weave the air with each breath each wave of your hand a symphony of delicate snowflakes a blur of un-captured images floating gently from your fingertips.
I like you. The way you look at the ground, when you smile a real smile, instead of just a polite one. The satisfied expression that peeks out, when you have said it, just right. The way your hands drive your hair, into peaks and valley’s. The quiet of your mind, as you consider, theContinue reading “Contemplating your smile”
I love the unchained melody that wrestles in your gaze. Tempting fingers to your back, I sink into a haze. The sidewalk gets the sweetest smiles, your shyness blush away. (Oh, dear, I typed that secret out I didn’t mean to say.) I love the way you pierce the things that catch your eye makingContinue reading “Contemplation of a man”
I like the way you stand relaxed, yet, vulnerable. Your body taking up a space I’d like to occupy; to look into your unguarded gaze and dimple my smile, happy just to stand crookedly with you.
I would ask you on a date but I am as shy, as I am chatty. A contradiction in pajama pants with caterpiller questions and a soul preoccupied by laughter and the meaning of love, that most illusive rebel, whom poets adore, cynics hate, and men with 5 typewriters embody.
I was trolling the web, as I do, and happened upon an archaic article toting about “How to entice the perfect man into your life” and “How to make yourself irresistible to men” I am certain that men have similar sites that come up. The thing is, most people do not have a second voiceContinue reading “10 things that make a male person AWESOME ( to me anyway)”
The shadows are my favorite on a walking night. Dark and light mingling in some strangely beautiful vision I cannot look away from without a winsome sigh. and some slight longing for remembered days gone past, where the memory of your fingers intertwined with the impatience of my youth.
I cannot express how sqwee this makes me You can find this excellent T-shirt at Threadless.com under title: “This is not my Time Machine” by Boostr29 aka Lawrence Villanueva
Clickity clack my head is in my hat while my eyes rest comfortably on your hands. You are interestingly active never less than kinetic, spatially inclined. I try to peer into your brain but, this is just impossible, as you are so often muted in both sound and manner. Clickity clack my conscience is compact.Continue reading “Typewriter Key”
Wander sideways. Slip like paper into the in-between and follow the scent of lemon and cinnamon. Let your bare feet find the pattern of the wood. Toes making like riptide. Salty sea air in your hair. Lie close to my skin and breathe the calm in. Find the peace in cutoffs and tangled fingers. LetContinue reading “On the edge with you”
His eyes are like volumes of writing hidden in a diary. The passages are guarded, and the sentences are blocked. but.. within each page is a treasure trove of whimsy and gently placed kindness. Valiant hopes and sentimental dreams. Beauty that brings a tear. Worry and sometimes lack of confidence that hides its lovely face certainContinue reading “Short description”
I imagine you are wondering why I speak, and yet do not. My eyes betraying that there are volumes more I would say. It is because I know that opinions are only valuable to the person speaking them and never to the person hearing. I am not vain enough to need an audience for myContinue reading “Objective consideration”
You are not soft pattern. There are no simplistic stitches in your make-up. You have the kind of soul that makes seamstresses toss their hands into the air and themselves onto the floor in a fit of embroidery and frustration.