I will sit in that quiet corner and watch you enter from the door.
Our glances,two outstretched arms, will cross and hold hands
My eyes beckoning, will waft you to the seat next to me.

Let's watch the courting dance of coffee and cold weather
As a humming wind and rhythmic rain serenade the two
Coaxing them to embrace

I waive my finger to stir the air
And bring it to my lips
Taste the chemistry
Of music and emotions
Bitter sweet I think.

She cried.
Each trailing tear scratched my face

Some pursue the truth because for them that is salvation. The exercise then hence results to one remembring the innate knowedge that are residues from the past where the truth began. This resulting to emmancipation. The ''spirit'' inspires us to remember the humanity we have lost in translation. Or the humaness we have transformed into an amlgamated view of the value of man as only congruent to acquisition and what he can give based on what he has acquired.

Is it that through the various compliicated mechanisms we have developed that are founded on capitalism that we hve forgotten the truths we were born with?

We've tried opening midnight bottles
midnight bodyshots on counters and brothels
We've tired to do it slowly one button at time
Straining from the restraint from the beautiful sublime
Of just ripping and grinding and pushing and shoving
And moning and screaming and scratching all evening

But of all the times I think I must say
I also love the sleepy-cuddling on a rainy day
I love the she-cooks-I-clean the dishes-nights
I love the hifatty!-all good piggy!-bantering-fights
I have learned to accept the"that's-enough-O!-for-a-night-Kiss"
The occasional just-take-a-colder-shower-a-glass-of-water-and-go-to-bed-hiss

Though grumpy and whineny she's still my happy bunny
Gorgeously Stunning powered with an energizer battery

Lullabye

There is a slow unfolding drama in the way the first beams of dawn softly illuminate her face. I like waiting for that moment, i love the play of the shifting-shape-shadows on her body. I am captivated by the effect of the changing light on her skin,on her face,of the transformation of hues from moonlight silver to to dusk blue. Then the sun begins to show it's face and mixes all the colors up to a warmer pale-gold-morning. Her skin seems so much softer and warmer to touch under that light.

She sleeps. She sleeps so deeply as if waiting for true love's kiss. If only she could see through my eyes sometimes and understand the inexplicable experience I have when I look at her like this. Its so sad how she will never know how she is like this,sleeping like a baby.

Like an eye in the sky.I see us like this. I imagine it to be quite picturesque. Our bodies beside each other, like an image in the mirror, oppositely symmetrical. I alive at night, she alive in the morning. I dream with my eyes open, she dreams with her eyes closed. Together, equally resting with our limbs crossed like fingers hoping.