Poetry, Unbound


There is a stillness
in the moment before
the ocean crashes
upon the rocky shore.
Here amongst this apex of peace –
the clichéd calm before the storm –
is where I see you the clearest.
Who you were.
Who you are.
Who you will be.
And I know,
looking into the depth’s embrace,
that there will be no return.
That the only safe harbor
is your lighthouse
beckoning me to you.

In response to Daily Prompt: Calm
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Lighthouse” by Unsplash (CC0 Public Domain)
Prose, Unbound

Foolhardy Heart

He paced across the porch, hands and fingers splayed out as if he were trying to make the ever-important point as he would in lecture. How frustrating I found myself feeling like the student instead of the work colleague that I was. Abashed and staring down at my drink, I held my breath for what was coming next.

“Don’t you feel it too? I know you do,” he lowered his voice as his pacing came up short and stopped merely inches from me. His body radiated heat that stretched out, curled around me, and closed the remaining distance between our bodies.

My breath stuck in my lungs, and a million thoughts swirled in my mind. Is this really happening? Am I dreaming? Did he really just say what I think he did? Does he know how I feel? How did he know how I felt? I’d been diligent. Friendly when I thought I could handle being close; quiet and withdrawn when I knew the distance could never be spanned.

“I do feel it,” I whispered, my eyes still cast on the ground. A huge weight had been lifted, but something more unsettling had filled its place. My breathing quickened its tempo as I waited for Jeremy’s reply.

He paced away again, his hands exasperatedly splayed out once more. I finally released the breath that had been tearing its way through my chest.

“You know… Amy… I’d have no problem having an affair with you,” he spoke with just a hint of amusement but with all the seriousness of a man who was determined to get what he wanted.

My breath caught once again leaving me breathless as if I had swallowed his words and they’d caught somewhere in my windpipe. Words are not tangible. They have no formal shape. They cast no shadow and bring no light. Hell, I work with words. I shouldn’t fall prey to them.

Panic shone bright in my eyes. I slowly prepared my rebuttal, but for my entire proclivity with words, they had failed me when I needed them most.

“It’s just every time I see you… I want to kiss you,” he said and crossed the distance of the porch in two strides. His hands enclosed my face and wrenched it upwards to meet his. Before any half-hearted protest could escape my lips, his mouth had enclosed over mine with a mingling of desire, desperation, and defiance.

Only the stirring of dust deep inside me registered any change. Was it fear that kept me from responding to the kiss? Surprise that I had the power to elicit this kind of response from a man? The emptiness I’d felt at being alone for the past three years? The understanding that the kiss was a forbidden folly was not lost on me. It’s not the knowledge that I felt nothing that keeps the memory of this moment fresh in my mind, tormenting me. It’s the unspoken acknowledgement that things had irrevocably changed.

In response to Daily Prompt: Folly
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Dried Leaves” by Unsplash (CC0 Public Domain)
Prose, Unbound

All the Times Before

“You’re sweet,” he says.

I’m curled up behind him beneath black light charged, glow-in-the-dark stars, my chest pressed against his back.  We’ve just finished what I could call making love but what I’m sure he would say is doing it.

“I’m glad you think I’m sweet,” I reply.  Then on a second thought, “Do you think I’m too sweet?” I ask.

“No,” he replies.

I wrap my arm around him tighter and lace my fingers through his.  I kiss his shoulders and nuzzle up against his back.

His warmth spreads through me like hot chocolate, and I’m being pulled down deep into sleepy waters. I’m drowned out when I try to say that my sweetness has always been found annoying before.  That I was labeled clingy.  

I try to wait a little before I say this.  Then I question if I should.  Then I question what he means exactly.  Then I question all the times before.

In response to Daily Prompt: Conundrum
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Bed Linens” by Unsplash (CC0 Public Domain)
Poetry, Unbound

Next to You

On sunny days when its rays
streak through closed blinds,
I dream I’m in the dust,
dancing and floating upward
and out toward the light.
I reach with greedy hands
for a chance at life,
a seed to plant in the morning breath.

I lay in bed next to you
warmed by the furnace of your belly.
I watch the ballet of tiny stars dance
and wait for you to move next to me.
I know you’ve been awake all night:
feeling me move,
hearing me breathe,
watching for signs of pleasant dreams.

You never sleep when I do.
You never see the universe
exploding in the morning light.

In response to Discover Challenge: Finding Your Place
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Rays of Sunlight” by BarbaraALane (CC0 Public Domain)
Poetry, Unbound


Out of all the times that I’ve tried,
I don’t know if there’s much left inside.
I’m screaming from the inside out.
My head is spinning. I’m left in doubt.
I’m going down.  I’m going under.
You’re drowning out.
We’re drowning now.

Tell me that I haven’t loved in vain,
Or has this whole world gone insane?
Our clock is ticking on the wall.
All the king’s men are about to fall.
I’m going down.  I’m going under.
You’re drowning out.
We’re drowning now.

All that’s left is ash and dust,
And all the pretty jewels rust.
The candles are flickering low.
Our heart’s phantoms soon will grow.
I’m going down.  I’m going under.
You’re drowning out.
We’re drowning now.

We’ve come to the end of our road.
All our dreams have been sold.
We’ve cashed them all in at last.
The final daylight is fading fast.
I’m going down.  I’m going under.
You’re drowning out.
We’ve drowned now.

In response to Daily Prompt: Faded
Featured Image: Pixabay – “Fog” by Skeeze (CC0 Public Domain)