Butterflies

 

The air smelled of apples and fresh cut grass. Our foreheads were touching and your breath danced on my face like summer breeze. Your fingers travelled in all directions while I tried to tame the words that threaten to escape my mouth before sounding pretty and perfect. I felt like a moth trapped in a lampshade.

‘I love you’, I said and met your eyes, a ‘but’ at the tip of my tongue.

You stopped the word with your lips. ‘I don’t want to hear the but’, you whispered in your ragged shallow voice that echoed through every cell of my body. You kissed me again before I had a chance to reply. All those elegantly arranged words in my mind began to untangle into letters and the letters transformed into fluttering wings of butterflies. I tried to catch them. I did. But they were dancing in no order, creating colourful chaos and they were mesmerising. After a while I stopped trying. I just watched and enjoyed their show, the ‘but’ lost in a swarm of butterflies.

Random ramblings

It is a massive pain in the backside not to have a computer and work on a tablet 😦

Although I do like my tablet 😀

So many gadgets so little time!

Bitter Taste

 

Bleak day dressed into black night

Wind crippling all trees in sight

Veil of rain drowning the world

Thunders drumming, brave and bold

 

Lightnigs chasing ghosts and shadows

Frost denying all tomorrows

Breading on my endless wrath

Acid hate boiling my heart

 

Die murderer! Die in Hell!

Die of fright and die in pain!

 

Caught and cuffed dragged through the street

Justice served – punishment to meet

Murderer’s throat choking pleads

Howling ghouls tickling his heels

 

Hangman shakes hands with Death

Transaction done – all went well.

Vengeance left an empty heart

What was lost I never find

– I never be his wife.

Fact of the day

Snail can sleep for three years.

World behind your eyes

 

I cannot change the facts. You are there and I am here. As actors have their lines and scenes, we had ours and with humble obedience we read the script that had already been written. We didn’t want to ruin the play with our improvisation. The fleeting moments when our eyes were drawn together by magnetic force – those were just that – moments, butterflies in summer. It’s funny how I can’t quite say what colour your eyes were. They were calm and deep like a mountain lake and  I could amost smell the kindness of the trees while I was looking into them. There was a hidden world guarded by the gates of our lashes and we were silently reading stories to each other.

Would it have been different if we had met in a place where our roles were not predetermined, dictated by the situation and enforced upon us before we even entered the stage? I can change the settings but I cannot change the facts. You are there and I am here. Though, perhaps we would unbind the ropes of our lines, defy the restrictions of our roles, and allow our eyes to free their secret stories. They would talk about gentle touches, hugs that would warm me better than a fluffy blanket, a kiss tasting of sweet honey that would leave our lips burning for more. Maybe I would move into the world behind your eyes.

I think your eyes were blue and grey and little green too, like a storm that is painting day skies few shades darker, with raindrops crouching in the cluster of heavy clouds. Yes, that was the colour of your eyes. My skies love rain. When I look up, I will meet your gaze as the clouds start to cry. And I will cry too.

Sweet Little Bit of Math

111 111 111 x 111 111 111 = 12 345 678 987 654 321

I am back!

been busy dreaming…

Aside

Sorbet Sundays

Lifestyle, Beauty & Fashion

Mountania Travel Agency

Your guide to adventure in SLOVAKIA, ICELAND, BHUTAN, NEPAL, GREENLAND, GEORGIA AND SPAIN

Out of Print

Fiction authors and their shorts

Memoirs of a Time Here-After

the writings, musings, and photography of a dream smith

Roaming at Large

Poems & Photos by DM Shepherd

paigeaddams

Paranormal Romance

WORDMUSIC

The greatest WordPress.com site in all the land!

Black Bean Queen

Running, healthy living, & (mostly) healthy vegetarian food

The Exceptional Everyday

The ordinary is the magic.

MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO

My words will either attract a strong mind or offend a weak one.

Elan Mudrow

The Ridges of Intertextuallity

HASTYWORDS

Turning Tears & Laughter into Words

Jennifer Nichole Wells

Miniature Diorama Photography

katerina marks

mixed-media artist

The Dictionary of Victorian Insults & Niceties

Together we can give the nineteenth century a voice in the twenty-first century.

Kat's Scribbles

where chaos gives birth to poetic expression

Through the Lens of my Life

thoughts and images from my perspective

Fading Shadow

Blog 1 of 2

Stephieopolis

It is not down in any map; true places never are.

harold guenthner

apostrophe ess