Posts Tagged ‘laugh’

And so I have to put aside

what fantasies I had.

And so I must try to silence the voice

in me that says “I’m yours.”

And so I must try to look at you

without blushing.

I must try to fight the urge to hold your hand,

to fawn over your smile,

to talk to you

simply because I like the way you talk.

I feel sad,

though I shouldn’t.

I haven’t lost anything,

not really.

I’ve gained a friend.

That’s something.

So,

I’m alright.

No less an organ

than the cardiac muscle

and sinew

of a regular human heart.

This heart dreamt.

It dreamt of love

in two hands, clasped;

in four eyes, twinkling;

in lips and words, whispered

and shouted,

and gestures and laughter

and memories

that have yet to be made.

Some of these dreams

turned into wishes,

and the wishes became so strong

they turned into prayers-

much like a chick

turns into a fledgling,

than spreads its wings

and flies.

The heart was shattered

by promises

that held as much weight

as stardust,

sweet words

that disguised the taste of cyanide,

and its own dreams

which it believed too much in

and had its natural rhythm disrupted by.

The shattered fragments

of the glass heart

belong to me.

They dig into my ribs

and say don’t believe

too strong

in dreams.

Tenderness lives in hands.

In the soft, light, and feathery touch

of skin on skin- Tenderness is passed.

In loving caresses Tenderness relinquishes warmth,

then rushes to hearts and quickens their pace.

Tenderness takes its time

knowing when tears will form,

when happiness abides in the smallest of smiles,

and gratefulness shows in the slow closing of eyes.

Tenderness takes root

at the clasp of palms, and fingers entwining.

It grows in the hearty laughs, genuine smiles,

and red blood visibly rising in cheeks.

Tenderness blooms

where two bodies meet with the slightest of touches,

and grows through years of unity,

where smiles, laughs, and touches never cease.

 

My life lies flat,

I go from bed to bathroom

to kitchen to bedroom,

again and again,

only moving in a circle.

Routine does bring promise

of new insights–

insights into the dull repetition of routine.