Sculpted Lightning

or, The Beautiful Sameness of Normalcy

Original photograph by Fir0002/Flagstaffotos via Wikipedia, “Lightning”

Not like vinegar touches the tongue
or the futile efforts to mow down cement
make the sidewalk bloom with daffodils and daisies
let the summer unfold in whispers and sideways glances
let the heat undulate above the asphalt
paths that lead us to park benches draped in shade
and supernovas launched from baseball fields
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A Love Poem

Once I liked sleeping in cold beds
slipping between the sheets and shivering
until I formed a pocket of warmth
to sleep in

Now I can’t stand lying in a cold bed
because it means I’m not with you
you burn me to the touch, smoldering
like the embers you ignite in my heart
stirred like the fires of my soul
as they come to light
when our eyes meet

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Even in the Dark

What makes a romance? Is it love possessed or love shared, love timeless or love out of time? In this exercise to write in the style of romantic novels, I tried to find out.

Timothy cupped his hand around the wick to shield it from the wind as he struggled to light the candle. The scent of roses wafted around him as he tried to concentrate, but the lightest breeze was always enough to cause the flame to flutter out.

After a few moments, he set the lighter aside and turned around.

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