you melt me

We had made eye contact more than than once, twice. Now going for a third time, our eyes locked like lions on the prowl. My eyes wandered from his hair line, to the bridge of his nose, down to his slightly plumped lower lip, where I then looked away. Across the bar, he sat with two other men, friends I assumed. They were way too busy debating, who would win the football tournament to notice the exchange of our hungry looks. My friends, on the hand, had abandoned me to go dancing on tabletops with all the other alcoholics. His eyes caught mine again… glazed over from being lightly buzzed, I guess he was an alcoholic too, but it didn’t matter to me. The loud music blaring static in the background didn’t matter, neither did the sixty year old drunk over my shoulder, who insisted on buying me drinks the whole night. None of it mattered. All of a sudden he bit down on his lower lip, so deliberate, so sensual. It seemed as if we were in a room all alone, lit only by a single candle, with the faint sound of harsh acoustic roots and blues. This is what I imagined of course, none of it was real. I can remember, wishing I too was drunk like all the others, so I could muster the courage to walk right up to him and demand that he come home with me. But I wasn’t drunk, matter fact I was 100 % sober. Sober, miserable and lonesome staring into the eyes of my dubious, impending lover. Would he come to me or me to him? I played the various scenarios in my head over and over again, but still nothing. We both sat quietly at across road, waiting for the light to turn green. Hours later, I was calling a taxi for my two intoxicated friends, so my poor car seat wouldn’t receive, yet another victorious stain and that’s when he appeared. Locking eyes again, he paused and then continued to enter his car, speeding off into the night. “Well that’s that.” I thought , getting into my car. While driving, I approached a red light. Suddenly, I heard the revving of a car engine and there he was sitting to the left of me. He rolled his window down and with a smirk asked, “Will you come home with me?” I looked down shyly, then back at him, the light was green and we both sped off into the night.

His lips were on mine, before we even entered his place. The taste of his lips so soft, but threatening. His tongue and mine intertwined, as if it were fate that had brought the two together. His hands searching his back pocket for a key, distracted by the feeling of my waist, my hips pressed against his. I distanced my lips from his, allowing him to open the front door. He hit on the light switch, then gestured me to enter before him. It was small and crowded with piping still exposed. He reached into a cabinet behind the door, pulling out a match and lighting a candle in the middle of the floor, I turned off the lights. “So…” he whispered softly walking closer towards me. “What’s your name?” I looked down at my feet searching for the confidence to lie. “My name? My name is … um Honey.” I lied. “Honey, huh? Well, don’t you want to know my name Honey?” He grinned. “Um no… no I don’t. I think it’s better that way, don’t you?” I responded nervously. He stepped closer, his hands drifting from my face to my hips to my hands, guiding me to his bedroom. “It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.” He mumbled. It was in that moment, that I felt a rush of anxiety, like I suddenly forgot how to breathe. “Do you have a bathroom? I just want to get more comfortable…” I muttered. “Yeah of course, it’s to the left.” He replied with a confused look on his face. After entering the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, glaring into the mirror at my own reflection. What was I doing here? How did I end up here? I splashed cold water onto my face, prying farther into my own thoughts. Was I really going to sleep with this man, this stranger? I have never done anything like this before, this daring, this stupid. These were the types of situations I was taught to avoid. I’ve never been so trusting, why was it different with him? I was completely drawn to him, for reasons I, myself were unaware of. So many thoughts raced through my head. Was this just a physical attraction, lust? No, there was more, or was there? Why did I allow myself to get to this place. He could be a murderer or a pervert, I had to be smart about this, I thought. I started to pace back and forth, back and forth, until I stopped, took a deep breath and slowly opened the bathroom door. The sound of smooth acoustic was playing on the radio. I walked back to the bedroom in nothing, but my fine silk lingerie, to find him passed out across his bed. “Beautiful…” I whispered. Then proceeded to lie down onto the sofa in the living room.

The next morning I woke up to the sound, ‘Like real people do’ by Hozier, birds chirping and the smell of burning waffles. I lifted my head from the sofa to find him standing there in the outfit, only God could design. “Good! You’re awake!” He shouted. “And you’re naked!?” I squealed covering my eyes. He busted into laughter. “So you’ve never seen a naked man before aye? I cooked breakfast, I think they’re a little underdone.” He said cocking his head sideways, looking strangely at the scorched waffles. “Under?” I chuckled. “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you, I feel so dumb… I mean, I don’t even know your name.” I said shamefully. “Well, I would say we are in the same boat… HONEY?” He laughed holding my driver’s license in his other hand, giving me that same devilish grin. “Looks like you’ve been waiting for the light to turn green. Well, what are you waiting for, honey.” He whispered placing the burnt waffles beside me on the sofa. I smiled slightly and then our lips met. “Can I ask you a question?” I asked pulling out of our embrace. “How would you describe a kiss like ours?” I muttered kissing the sides of his neck, up then down, then up again. ” Like… fireworks, you know like a star waning with countless titanic explosions, a supernova. A gentle, but fatal supernova.” He whispered softly in my ear. His hands held me so gently, so close, so warm. I was so much like the candle lit in the middle of floor from the night before and he, so much like the match.

“You…You melt me.” I smiled.

boys

+

i hate boys

some make me feel like im not wanted

some make me feel like a toy

some think my soul doesn’t add up with the body that my spirit decided to enjoy

some think im a weirdo, they’re right i am

some are intimidated, they run away because they are scared

some no matter how much i do, don’t seem to care

some want me physically

none want me spiritually

so ill hate boys until the death of me

I wonder what it’s like to meet a Man.

+

It’s the rain

It’s the sun

It’s my messy handwriting

It’s that never ending search for the one

It’s the plants, that hang down from the wall

It’s my favorite flower of the sun, she stands tall

It’s how badly I crave to find someone who will listen to it all

The good, the bad, the dark and ugly

The foolish nonsense that it involves

My mind, a terrible place, but once the pen starts, it doesn’t stop

One click of the key is all it takes

So it’ll be the rain and then the sun

It’ll be whatever it takes

To make sense, where there is none

Le but de l’âme

+

I could easily be that woman.

The agreeable one, the one who smiles and laughs…even when I find remarks less than humorous.

I could get married and have children

Cook and clean.

Look nice and delicate.

Be nice and delicate.

Capture my beauty through photographs,

I take of myself.

Be in the moment, live for now.

Love in seasons.

I could be that woman and many would love her.

You see, there is nothing wrong with a woman like this.

If anything, I would prefer to be her.

But she is not me, no matter how earnest the attempt.

I am a thought, always evolving.

Never satisfied…

How could someone love a woman like this?

One who rarely smiles,

One who rarely understands herself, but is in constant search for more,

More of what she, herself does not know.

Strange, how there are so many books, testimonies and scriptures explaining what it is that wise men seek…

Even the Bible states that a man of wisdom seeks knowledge.

But what of my longing, what of my questions?

The abundance of my happiness must stem from what?

Marriage, love, fertility, material belongings? All beautiful things. All fleeting, fleeting as am I in this moment. Fleeting like the short span that is a lifetime, but never like my words.

The soul’s purpose.

The Romantic

+

Water spewing from the fountains in Italy or maybe it was France.

Another place, another time.

Somewhere on the Northern Hemisphere, where we met.

Surrounded by many,

but like none.

They didn’t know it,

but I did.

The sunlight kissed our skin from the heavens above.

Honey and pastel hues of pinks and blues,

back to the days, when I loved you.

What sweet undertones with ever growing addictive fumes.

There were many assorted delights,

in our picnic of two.

Where I enjoyed the simplest things in life,

like the presence of you.

Easily saying whatever it was that came to mind.

The feeling of your skin on mine.

The taste of strong ales and rosé,

my guess of your favorite of wine.

In this moment time seemed to stop

as if you and I could forever control the clock.

The perfect rhyme, a pleasing hymn, for a ever so bitter, but lovely end,

to the tale of the romantic and her imaginary friend.