Through the shadows darkly, he slips
his steps silent
mind pained, chaotic.
Not a gambit, no trifle,
In ashes, burning wild, uncontrolled
as is his heart.
He seeks the dark, beseeches the dark
moans aloud his agony,
in the dark.
He remains in the shadows.
Did he ever nod his head 'yes'? Say the word out loud?
A brief moment of doubt, perhaps fear.
No quicker than a flash, a needle in his hand.
And never a second thought for another day.
Magic promised in a clear liquid,
an emptiness filled, a storm shored up.
He sips from agony, smells pain.
A prisoner of his own darkness.
He understood that his was not to be an
With what he had done, seen and lived
through, honor was an ocean away. Lost.
No, all he wished for was a 'good death'.
He counted and compared, numbers sliding
one into the other. There is no quantifying
deeds; good or bad. Falling to the floor he searches
and comes away with empty hands.
He leaves behind 'soldiers'.
They are in good stead and no longer needed
Goodbyes are unnecessary, he will not be far.
I have a secret.
A lusty chimera that devours ingeniously.
As tidal as the moon,
a force, this secret is.
It begs, teases and conspires; tell!
Oh what tricks it plays,
as sensual as a lovers embrace.
Shhh!, I damp it down.
As tart as a lemon and sweet as honey.
It beckons with promises, lies.
I'm whistling forth a storm........
And I'm taking my secret with me!
I caresses it first in my hand
slide my fingers across the warm and
Delicately fuzzy and oh so sensual.
The mind wanderers places unseen,
unexplored till this very moment.
The touch, fingers tingling.
Can you detect the sweetness, the
Holding it ever so slightly,
a little closer.
Mouth waters with anticipation;
desire builds to a climactic crescendo.
A small bite,
tender and senses are overwhelmed.
A lick, another bite.
Juices drench my my chin, my neck
drip to my breast.
Using my fingertips to gather.
Sucking up the overflow.
Can you taste this wonder?
Do you feel what I do?
laying on the bed, I heard it.
The knowing, making it real. The sound.
Quickly grabbed my jeans and shirt
running outside, attempting to button up.
Forget it, leave it, ignore it
finding the sound
my mission, my desire, my passion.
Raining, an ominous portent for the
the wings I seek.
Water pouring off me, clouding vision
Taking my shirt off to wipe my eyes, face.
And yes, the sound grows ever closer.
I hear a sputter and my heart lurches.
There she is! Clear for only one brief
A Piper, white with grand red stripes,
broad. proud she fly's.
Heavy winds, weighty rain pulls her down.
Fighting, struggling for altitude she cants to
the left. I hold my breath, a prayer on my
lips. Tipping, trajectory seems to be lost.
No, I whisper.
And there, right now she evens. A viking
on the way to victory.
Tears flood my face. This time for courage.
Learning to fly.
Allow me to remain here at shores edge
just a moment longer.
Fog enveloping me, so like a lovers caress.
Warm, gentle, complete.
Smooth sand at my finger tips
older than time.
Before there was a him
long before me.
Let me feast my eyes on the struggling dawn
one last time.
Feel the waves lap at my thighs and belly
Wet to wet,
just a moment longer.
A glass of wine, a thought, a cigarette
Body grows taut, mind enters a state of
other words, another moment.
Sheets cold, unyielding. again I turn
over. Ache and body restless.
I need . Oh, I want. What can you give me?
Where can you touch me, make this ache
Thighs quiver, shaking with desire.
Ache that cannot be slaked without you.
another thought, a sip, another cigarette.
He's empty, foolish with desire he cannot
describe nor fulfill.
He has no where to go now.
Searches and only ends up facing
a mirror of nothingness.
His place of darkness, self induced pain.
Takes photographs of self to validate;
A shadow with no shade, no impression.
No substance... empty.
His yesterday has curled away as
so much ebony smoke.
Today squandered and all but forgotten.
my minute, my hour, my day
light fading into shadow
twin sisters of impatience
want, desire, a hunger that
feeds without ceasing
a need that holds hands
late into the evening
just another pattern
I am adrift, untethered
and I don't know how long
I can float.
I've been set free
like a balloon from a careless
The wind grabs at me
but takes me nowhere.
When your broken, alone
you can only crawl back
to your wounded heart.
Her vision is blurred. She wonders, is it the snow spitting
at her windshield? Or is it the streaming tears?
When the heartache overwhelmed her the only thought
she had was to get to the cabin. A place of refuge, a place
to forget him. A garden of forgetfulness.
The road conditions are such now, that she questions her
judgment. She knows however, its the only place to think,
grieve, recover. she is but a very few miles away.
It doesn't take long before the bright light of this downpour
leaves her disoriented, her mind wanders...
like the shadow of so many yesterdays, the past, the raw
emotions, flood her thoughts like a window left open in December.
She had never fallen in love before him. Oh yes, she has loved
other men...possibly many. But not until him did she make the
discovery. You can love, but still, ....being in love was so very
She was lost, but found. Heat and coolness had no meaning.
It was very like being a newborn. Open to all and sunder.
Everything, all of her, her being, soul, belonged to him.
She forgot whom she was, for she lived only for him.
No mirror recognized her, she became, owned. So unlike her character,
her past experiences. Lost and her heart screamed...not found!
she breaks out of her reverie in time to see the drive leading to
the cabin. A sigh of relief escapes her raw lips, she has been
crying far too long. A chance now to go back in time...a more
peaceful era. This was her great grandparents cabin. Many renovations
later it still and forever holds its original charm and warmth.
In her parents will they had left a codicil that the longtime caretakers
were to remain in employ and her gratitude was never so
apparent as when she walked in and found an over warm but
deeply appreciated fire in the grate. Her eyes roamed the familiar room
and found that Emil and his wife had left a welcome of cheese, grapes
and an inviting bottle of red wine.
Running upstairs to her old room, she quickly drops her suitcase
and feeling the warmth of the fire set in her room as well, she divests herself of all but panties. Ahh, a modicum of freedom, a burden lifted.
She makes her way to the greatroom and opens the wine without
haste. Deep and dry, she drinks. Yes, she begs, let me forget.
Let me abandon all his assertions of love, of always.
the broken promises, the dreams. She recalls the phone conversations,
the texts and words whispered in her ear, her heart. Damn him,
she is betrayed by her own body. The warmth she now feels
is no longer emanating just from the fire. She feels his breath on her
neck his hand on her breast. ENOUGH she screams to an empty room.
A cypher kissing her fingertips, leaving wet trails of desire.
Another glass of wine. She came to forget.....she only remembers.
She sits on the couch, watches the fish swim round the bowl.
The bird caged and in the corner makes another of its kissing sounds.
She doesn't really see the fish, she sees through them. The bird
just one of the very few sounds in the house.
Getting up she shuffles to the kitchen for yet another glass of
water. Her thirst unquenchable, has been for weeks now. Back to the
couch. Lighting a cigarette she looks closely around the room.
Dares herself to find something different...something of worth.
With emptiness she sees nothing she has not seen yesterday, last
When the grandfather clock chimes another hour, she allows
herself the luxury of just a few tears to wet her face. She does not
count the chimes as time has no relevance here, in this room.
Glancing down she sees her glass has been emptied. Up to the kitchen,
pour another glassful, she goes back to the couch.
She understands there little time left, so she sits there.
Yesterday, last week....tomorrow?
Of course I knew the day was coming. For several thousand years
I've known the date. I have not lived one day without this beast
on my back.
Damn Zeus to Hades. He could not be satisfied with the punishment he
metered out to Prometheus. No, he then had to have me created by
his choice of gods! For revenge? Revenge!
He imbued me with many qualities. Beauty, kindness of heart, and of
course curiosity. I was also given a pithos. Indeed I am Pandora and the
pithos is my daily burden known as “the box”. The box containing all
of the worlds evils.
Zeus then rent the sky wide and dropped me forth to live among the humans
to guard the secret of the box..to allow nothing to escape again.....
I have begged Charron with thrice his fee. On my knees for a ferry
across Styx. This also is denied me. There was never to be any sucress.
I spend my days tenderly rubbing the box with oils from the finest
of olives. There is no sheen that could possibly compare to the one
of Pandora's box. The scent of myrrh permeates its shape.
It has over the years, taken on a life of its own. It is not unlike a woman
gently and with great care, being taken care of by her lover.
And yet, I stand at this day of reckoning, anticipation and horror course
through me to my very core. Just what will Zeus have me unleash
With one last tear, I slowly push the lock back and open the box.
Inside lay one thing and one thing only.
A mustard seed.
the waves beat onto the shore with a rage unseen until
this moment in time. Skies deep, heavy and bruised.
Ice like...the water so cold it leaves no mark in the sand.
It is a rocky shore. Ageless and time forgotten. Beautifully
smooth rocks and boulders begin to rattle and move
with the force of the great waves. Movement unknown
The cliff above the rocks rains down shoal like tears.
Atop the cliff stands a lone house. Occupied by one alone.
She stands at the window, watches the devastation,.she feels
no fear only anticipation. She has waited a lengthy time
for just this moment. The house shakes with the force of
such mighty winds...and with this wanton power, she knows.
Turning...she reaches up and removes the photo from the
mantlepiece. A sailor. Stern of visage..a small smile of pride
and what she believes is love. Her captain.
Dressed only in a sheer gown of white, she makes her way to
shore. Tightly holding the time worn photo she is buffeted
by the relentless winds. Calmly she strides past the boulders,
bending only momentarily. Her friends, she thinks, as she lightly
glides a slender hand across the surface. Ahh, she dare not
linger as she is wont. She is determined, she has purpose.
Straight is her course, the wind blowing a spray of sea water
into her face. She breathes it in. nirvana.
Without a glance back she walks into these angry waves.
The sea has claimed her captain.......surely it will welcome her.
Slowly he opens his eyes. Stretching languidly and savoring
every sore muscle. Every thought, movement and sweet memory.
Closes his eyes once again, he buries his face in the pillow.
Her scent lingers and engulfs him with erotic pleasure. Much as
he adores the musing, he loves her more. Turns over to hold her
in his arms again...and again.
Empty sheets lie beneath his outstretched palm...empty and
cold? Has he overlooked something? No, no they had made plans
for breakfast out this morning! Oh, she must be in the
kitchen making coffee. But no, he does not smell coffee. No
pungent welcoming morning smell. No familiar chickory scent.
Tripping over sheets that had so recently enveloped lovers,
he runs to the living room and feels.....lost, panic rules his emotions.
Her coat, the things she had with her last evening have vanished.
A faint whisper of fragrance lingers in the air. It rebukes him,
taunts him, laughs and teases him.
After a pain filled year without her, he finds her. In the club
last night. Standing by the dance floor with that quixotic smile on
her face. So similar to when they first started out, be believes it
must be his imagination. He orders a drink, certain that when he
next turns around she will not be there. A cypher, a ghost.
He has spent a better part of this last agonizing year, searching, calling,
despairing. Never giving up...only gave in to the inevitable pain
the grind of what he calls life.
They had enjoyed a month of bliss few ever experience.
She was there, She was THERE with him. He questioned his
good fortune each of those 30 days. He begged her to stay with him.
She is his everything, a once in a life time experience. STAY he pleads.
He recalls her throwing her head back and laughing...but still, she stays.
Hand holding, warmth of body to body. Making love at all hours.
Just to gaze at her while she did mundane things, all were a thrill to
Did he stop for one moment...just a precious minute and ask.....
“what does she feel”?
With regret, coursing through his deeper being he admits to having
done none of this...her smile, her passion has led him to believe.
Rushing home, what a wonderful word, it IS home with her there.
Roses in hand a plan for a night out, he finds the loft devoid of her
presence. There is nothing of her there, nothing but his memories.
And yet, here she stands. Almost regal, the way she holds
herself...the black dress, pearls and aura of 'me'.
He cares not. He takes hold of his drink, his heart and walks over.
'baby' he says...she turns and oh God, there is that smile!
Smirk some may say. But HE knows...he has seen that smile in
bed, at their most intimate moments. HE knows it weeps vulnerability.
Putting his drink down..he takes her hand gently in his, leads her out
the door and onto Broadway. She has said nothing...just holds his hand
tightly. A cab ride, and their back at his loft.
He walks back into the bed room, eyes wet with tears and steps on
something hard, unyielding. Bending down he finds a pearl.
And another, more until he discovers what must have been the