Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Monday, January 16, 2017

Ringing echoes

I can record your
reverberating, resonating laughters,
the ones that start
straight from heart
and reach your lips,
and play and replay them
over and over again.
And then,
I can imagine the rosy blush,
the surge of warm blood,
that slivers of smile
lend to your cheeks
and
feel a little envious
of their soft, subtle caress.
Your quick breaths and short gasps
interspersed between hearty chuckles
can warm me on icy days.
But, I am left with
this irresistible urge to reach out
and touch and kiss those
squeezed eyelids
and
those laughter lines.
What do I do?

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Record

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

You, unplugged!

I found you thus!
Oblivious to the
loud banter of
stained machines,
rattle of motors,
squealing belts
and hustling cogs.
Bent over a lathe,
with a staff member,
perhaps runing some diagnostics.
That metallic beast
held your complete attention.
Your skilled hands
moved deftly over her,
tracing her sleek cuts
and exploring the nuances
of her body.
You skillfully maneuver the lady.
Tweaking, twisting, teasing.
Until she trembles
and springs to life.
You pat her gently,
"That's my girl!"
And then someone calls
you over,
and you busy yourself
with iron-teethed gears.
Mesmerized, I revel
in this version of you.

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

Monday, January 9, 2017

4:33A.M.

Your hands run
in the mess of my hair,
your touch tender
and full of care.
I stir a little,
perhaps even mumble,
incoherently in sleep.
You pull me in
the circle of your arms,
my back fits perfectly
in the hollow of your torso
and your warm legs
entangle in my not-so-warm.
Its a biting January morning,
cold, frosty and foggy.
But nestled in you,
I am all cozy and warm.
And then drifting
in and out of consciousness,
I realize I am dreaming.
I hold on to the vision,
and prolong my sleep.
until the quilt becomes cold.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words: Cold