Saturday, January 16, 2016

Lick of Dynamite

a knuckle ball of something definite yet totally undefinable is zooming right down the middle of intrigue. connecting the dots or adding more to the mix? a feeling erupts like a like flame licking closer to a stick of dynamite. moving in and out of focus. shadow puppets of potential conversations dance on the tip of tongues and adventure forms. the mind, a playground of tantalizing ideas, waiting for someone else to walk through the cranium door. a sliver of disbelief, a gallon of impulse, one big zap of curiosity and waves jump out, see them stretching. the reach is past the horizon line and half blind there is an epic pull, creating enormous opportunity. there is a radical shift in the bedrock and i can't help but want to get dirty.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Catching Secondhand Feelings

two steady charges of smoke jet stream from his nostrils, outlining his lips, i can almost see his words take form in midair before swept away into the atmosphere. i can just about feel the pull of the cigarette on my heart. it buoys there waiting for him to exhale and release both nicotine and me from his grasp. i am aware, live and humming inside my body. catching secondhand feelings. a defiant toe on the stub punctuates our conversation. he flicks the lighter in his free hand, tosses it back and forth. almost daring, roulette, what's it going to be; earth wind or fire? the scratch of flame announces the results in a different language that we do not try to translate. answers turning in the light to unasked questions, an outpouring of information stuffed into my pockets to be dissected later, privately. drenched in his identity there is a swell of shared experiences, quick conclusions swapped like kisses or did we kiss? i feel a lip print starting to form right under my temple.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Sentimental Uncorking

heavy hands filled with thought 
slam keyboards filled with letters
feelings take on a tangible form
hold them to the light
inspect their authenticity,
searching for the crease
the weighted smudge of soul has left
the paper damp in your hands.
it buckles at your admiration,
threatening to tear,
an ironic action for the flimsiness of feelings
the firmly anchored bits tossed out by the pageful
a sentimental uncorking of the personal reservoir of bubbly.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

You've Got a Sentence in Your Teeth

A salty grin with a twist like a lime right into the cocktail of my intuition. Drumming fingers on a shiny cool table top casting vibrations, they float my way and clink against my thoughts like ice cubes. I am thawed. I am intrigued. I move closer. Words I can't calculate tumble out of my mouth unpunctuated, shaken not stirred, here we bask in a shadowy orange glow of neon lights and a conversation sugary and saturated in a constant buzz. No names, no dates, no places to be but right in the middle of a sentence caught between my teeth..