my heart is starving
for a love most fulfilling
recipe of you
sweating through back doors
music blaring through the smoke
luring each other
a cove hideaway
stealing looks chasing naked
no want for escape
in sands of midnight
bodies drowning with passion
waves crashing with sins
silhouette lady
curtain ballerina moves
dances how he likes
water beads his lip
her skin softens from the salt
cravings fulfilling
the rain has that taste
streets black even at morning
my longing heart slows
an outdoor bookmark
is blueberry in nature
the chapter with you
Photo By: Sara Swain
street of dampened cobblestone
dirty pigeons and trampled smokes
where marquee lights faded in the creeping sun
and police cruiser chirps, shooed on
as randoms of strangers filter out of holes in the walls
scurrying from the light
with squinted eyes, messed up hair…
empty pockets and smeared makeup
they all zombie
stagger…stumble…kiss and curse
down a drunk-filled stretch
past half-eaten pizza by the atm
after the hot dogs being served with rotten hands
before the guy with the sign looking for money
next to the lady who bums cigarettes
while muffled beats still play out
faint
like the night is still hanging on
barely
to dull-sounding music like life support
it makes you sick as you stand there
then you laugh for no reason
check your pockets
and hail that holy cab
Sunday morning
I could smell the scent of church perfume
Nan must have just left
Pop is cooking me eggs and mmm…eggs like no others
special
for me
he loved it
taking his time, trying not to break the yolk
my thing, his thing, our thing
then I appeared
through the kitchen archway
straight to the table and that inside chair
my spot til university
pop’s service was top-notch
always repeating no more
then you turn the tiny knob
on the black and white tiny old TV
cracks of static at first
our favorite show flickers and plays on
it must be ten o’clock now
because the sun is stretching through the window
reaching the rocking chair
where pop is sitting in listen
here’s to adventure
here’s to romance
here’s the Cisco kid
not a word is spoken
souls in harmony
time in quantity
a moment in quality
memories of black and white
bring me the most colour
Earth To Ash 