She flashed one of those come hither looks only girls of a certain allure managed. Without getting out of her chair or even lowering her glass, she'd captured my attention completely. A flash of two green, bejewelled eyes and she thought me hers. Yes, I was enamoured, but never stupid.
The wind chills my skin, the hairs on my arm standing and swaying like eels in a riverbed. When the wind stops, they disappear and I feel sad. This repeats until I pull down my sleeves. Like God, I've just suppressed life. Who am I kidding that's what men do.
￼ I am yours hung from your fingers a puppet on veined strings always manipulated this marionette
He twists inside this man Rapping upon the bars of his bone-white cage Gnawing and chafing Seeking to be free, always straining A force unlike myself, darker Although I fear by only a shade He yearns to be free of my self-imposed prison But it holds him, it holds him just I know one day […]
Da Vinciesque, Her pursed lips. With she, No hidden agenda, No slight mistake, That thin line A fissure Waiting to erupt; She pouts Within. They build, Those words, Those dam busting Expletives. She will have her say, But not yet.
Clenched fist Relentless grip Ba-bum, ba-bum Constrained beat Stifled She smiles Squeezes harder Ba-bum… A lupine grin Wild But the thing is I don’t care It was hers To ruin An…y…way.. Ba… Bum…
Writing is an expression A literary transcending From point A to point B, Seeds sown in opening lines Brought to fruition Over carefully crafted time Like life itself, one might say. Pen and keyboard Offer control of thought, Perfect progression And desired climaxes, In a way life never can though: No surprises, no upset, no […]
Like fingers brushed across harp strings, you stir me As breath upon a cold window, you mystify me A puppeteer mastering a marionette, you control me And I am yours to do with as you wish