A Drawing of Summer

I saw a picture being drawn.

Thick charcoal lines

Dark, harsh

enveloped wiry blue gems

as the artist scratched away.

The rough outlines of hair

crumbling away at the edges

so that when the light delicately lands on the canvas

the rigid black blends into a smooth hue,

and the blue dampens;

becomes deeper,

fuller,

altogether more soft.

At first it all twirls and winds across empty space,

chaotically throwing itself and twisting as the artist takes a step back to admire the dangerous work,

this picture though wild

when set in the sun

with the soft glow of the sweet summer air

and seeing what a beautiful landscape has unfolded before it,

the picture smiles,

pulls back the frizzled black lines,

and the blue gems dazzled by the hills on the horizon,

dampen, wash out, like cobalt spitefully shining under morning’s temperance

become one and the same with the sky above;

And I-

my heart began to flutter watching the transformation from such daring rigidness

into the soft, delicate facade

of beauty;

And it has never stopped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Countdown to Infinity

I tell her she reminds me of snow covered trees

On a cool winter morning.

Or something romantic like that.

She smiles and turns around

Her red jacket spins effortlessly in the air

while lightly hugging her hips.

We count down to the rhythm of memories

of the year soon past, and

TEN her eyes glitter in the starlight

NINE My arms wrapped around her waist

EIGHT Her soft lips tingling against mine

SEVEN My fingers tracing lines and trails through her long brown hair

SIX Our clothes melt away into puddles at our ankles; her thighs resting on and then soon grinding against my lap

FIVE My hands grasping to unclip her bra

FOUR Her delicate face shattering with an ecstasy that we share as I enter her

THREE The rough motion of my body wrestling with hers, her breasts rise and fall like waves in high tide

TWO Her soft shallow breath now gaining ferocity, building with notes of love, hate and

the combination of all 525,600 moments, the conjoined pleasures, pains,

all collide as the clock now is about to reset in a broken dance of ‘I wanted’ and ‘she wanted’.

ONE We finish.

We’re lying together, breathless, lovesick

While thoughts of all that we’ve done crash into the shore.

The gaze of her hateful eyes meets mine, one by one the stars fade away, and we sit deadlocked;

Tasked with the torturous feat of facing one another again.

ZERO This isn’t what we wanted.