Juggle Not
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I was busy juggling all of the expectations
So I didn’t see what there was to see
Or where I was going
But only where I thought you thought I should be going
My traveling clothes were always ready
For whatever you could envision
“I’m there” I’d cry excitedly and off we’d go
To someplace foreign and exotic designed by your mind.
Inconclusive
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It is there, and it whispers in and among thoughts
Barely evident, like a shadow, perhaps imagined
Draping my collarbone weightlessly
Taking my elbow and guiding through the crowd in my mind
Turn my head, trying to avoid it, not look at it
But wanting to look far more closely
Daring not, it is too early
For looking askance at something intangible
What can I weave for you today?
The Weaver asks
Ferreting for what you are seeking
You see, words in the right hands
Weave greater, more durable textiles
than the finest weavers of tapestry.
Love Like Heat Lightnin’
I want a love like heat lightnin’
Arcing forth from the cloud
Of his heart, to mine
Illuminating, never destructive
Electrical, but not damaging
I want a love like heat lightnin’
Crackling in the hot, humid air
Between he and I
Silent, brilliantly shining
Visible, but not frightening
Sweet Nothings
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I can build air castles on the most gossamer of foundations
Turn a look into a lifetime,
Freeze frame a moment and stretch it into eternity
Where we never grow old, cranky or away from each other
I can draw from imagination stores most active
Off the cuff words in passing
Take that phrase spoken in haste
Create the rest of the conversational lifespan in my mind
Active, creative minds can be boon or bane
Giving life to things that don’t exist
Overwriting the reality of things as they are
Constantly writing a story that lives only in one head
I will swallow you whole, savoring every taste of you
But, is the flavor on my tongue your real taste?
Or… is it a confection I created from
Only the fleeting aroma of your presence
And when I stop, and step out of my imagination
Hot, harsh reality blares its eyes at me
Then rolls them, and sighs
Sweet nothings – that is all they were, in the end.
~SMK
Inspiration: A doppelganger affair in my head.
The Impetuarian 