EtCeteraI

You looked at me as if entranced, captivated, with gorgeous life glittering in your onyx eyes, you saw all that I was, beneath my rambling lips and untamed hair. You cast your celestial gaze on me, warming and confusing as it pulsed with honest beauty and truthful love, and glowed of genuine admiration. In that singular moment, nonchalant and unsuspecting, it made me whole. It made me perfect.

As I stand and stare and think, the thing in the mirror stares back, patiently, waiting, pupils dilated, beautiful and broken and solemn and young, aggravated and intelligent, silently passionate, secretive. He has style and form, and so many flaws. He’s inadequate, and human, with wisps of strength in his eyes, nearly in tears, torn and tired. He’s ambivalent, uncertain, always uncomfortably changing. I, hopelessly, wish that I could understand him.

Night crawls from the horizon; it settles on the ground like dust, climbs walls like creeping vines and seeps slowly into windows. Pushed back hopelessly by glistening glaring street lamps and lonely lights lying passive, night’s silent, smirking darkness encroaches on every blade of grass, every brick and every tree. It turns glass into obsidian, snow into sparkling quartz, and the endless sky into one vivid vision: an onyx ocean, spotted and speckled, winking wondrously, fantastic and brilliant, perpetually pulsating of picturesque purple, blue, white, and yellow. The night stands as tall, slim, innumerable pillars, an infinite sea

Your body quivers gently at every soft kiss on your neck, goosebumps raise to every touch, breaths rise and fall with lust. Warm breath and soft fingers tease your skin with tender touches, caressing and arousing each smooth curve. Burn slow, steady, sexy. Eyes closed, perfection, submission and stimulation, serenity, worlds of gorgeous pleasure paint pictures on your mind and the beauty touches you deeply and perfectly, in ecstasy, lay entranced tranquil as the flow of a poem.

Love you like starlight cast out incessantly from my ever-pulsating core, through endless vacuous light years. Hope you feel its warmth.

Wrap your whole self around me, breathe the same air, take the same space, embrace, entwine, latch onto me. Taste endless passion, infinite warmth; feel our fervent forevers, instantaneously. Find something more than words, something inexplicable, wholly beyond logic. Something nebulous as the dark pools of your iris, beautiful as your sweet smile and soft skin. Find it and we’ll share it.

The light, like loving lips and lustful fingers, kisses your smooth, bare, radiant skin; it traces your whole ethereal body’s curves, caresses every delicate contour of your neck, your legs, your breasts, and the gentle crease between your thighs. You’re a bouquet of tender, vibrant flowers, simplistic and luscious. Your voice flows like spring’s breeze, airy and fresh beneath a sun of gold; you speak in sweet, moaning whispers, rhythmic breaths trickling from charming lips. Your gleaming eyes set my mind ablaze. The fire burns beautifully.

A tome gathers dust in darkness, dormant on the shelf, enchanted and cursed, all alone and apathetic, disinterested and uninteresting. It holds some beautiful things: facts and knowledge, even humor and personality. And some ugly thing: sadness, arrogance, insecurity, hatred, all sealed inside its ashen cover. A book of life and flesh, exhilarating, captivating, yet none could know, for none dare lift its plain facade. The book is an adventure, but words must be read, not shown.

How illogical that the drop in the ocean thinks his ripples will radiate to each infinite edge How foolish that the tiny dot, the arbitrary speck on the continuum, wants to color the whole line ahead of him How arrogant that the house proclaims that to be built, to simply rise on virgin ground, means he will stand eternally

The trees reached bravely forth but grasped nothing. They stood tall, but lay dormant. Winter, fierce with frigid air, seized their domain and choked their zealous lives away. It clamped onto the land with brittle layers of vitreous, dry snow, drenching the earth with icy sheen. The landscape shone purely grey in the light of the sullen sun, but dusk’s flood of moonlight caressed its frozen contours with strokes of lambent dark blue. The clear sky shimmered, solid and dim, tainted by dying light of distant stars. Nothing breathed besides the wind as it swept through wisps of wood; it sighed and moaned listlessly lost like wistful spi