Loose Ends

I can’t seem to keep the dog from stealing my seat,
the screen door from flying open in the wind,
the breeze from sneaking in through the crack in the window seal,
or stop the overpriced tv from shutting off in the middle of my program

I can’t seem to stop the kitchen faucet’s brain-numbing dripping,
the buffering, buffering of my too-slow connections,
the fucking updates from making everything slower,
or stop the dishwashing detergent from making everything taste like soap

I can’t seem to wash away the smell of woods and pine hanging on my every thread,
the linger of bourbon-soaked conversations between sweat-soaked sheets,
the feeling of your fingertips gliding across my skin,
or stop the electricity from crackling between us in trails of gooseflesh

I have so many loose ends, it seems,
too many to list

but, Baby, you aren’t one of them

-image via Pixabay

Advertisements

Anew

the sweet glow of January sun
chasing away the cold,
droplets of April rain cascading,
making new of old

a deep, soul-cleansing breath, 
after a stress-filled day,
simple, meditative calm,
chasing worry away

color-bursting lilies a’bloom,
shaking sleep from my eyes,
mourning doves a’greeting,
a euphonic surprise

that’s how it feels
to sit next to you,
and breathe in your presence; 
my souls feels anew

-image via Tumblr

Jonesin’

you fall in love with the little things,
like that silly breath he takes at the start of a belly laugh,
the crooked way his smile forms when he’s watchin’ your hips sway at the kitchen counter,
or the gentle, deceiving way he runs his lips across your neck before he bites,
and before you know it, you’re addicted,
you can’t imagine going without those things;
you wake everyday jonesin’ for a fix,
stringin’ together one little thing into the next,
until your entire existence is one endless pursuit

and that’s when you know

-image via Tumblr; linked to the dVerse Open Link Night

Never End


she sat on the couch, 
the smell of freshly popped popcorn laced with a faint whisper of strawberry shampoo filling the air around her, 
as her youngest daughter folded herself into her,
arms wrapping years around her small frame,
holding them in

she glanced from one side to the other,
catching her oldest daughter in a throw-your-head-back giggle,
and her husband with his face all smile and eyes bright with joy

and just like that,
she felt them all blow through her chest, 
simultaneously filling her to all her edges,
and turning her to dust 

God, she was happy,
happier than she’d ever been

and she never wanted it to end

-stock image via Pinterest

Pickle Jar

she snuggled into him,
resting her head in the nook of his shoulder,
finding it was made just for her

here, her soul was at rest,
a rest she hadn’t ever known before,
and closing her eyes,
she savored

the way his palm delicately glided over her curls,
fingers grasping in silky handfuls and lifting,
each individual strand falling to a goose-fleshed tickle against her back 

the whispered words, warm against her cheek, 
swelling her heart and causing her lip to quiver,
the gentleness of his soft lips against her forehead,
and arms which drew her so close, 
she could no longer tell where he ended 
and she began

she couldn’t imagine ever forgetting –
she wanted to preserve each breath  as she breathed it,
every feeling as it overtook her

scooping each fluttering second into an old pickle jar,
she filled it to the rim,
illuminating like a warm summer night’s fireflies

alive,
and forever lighting 
the way home 

-image found via keywordsuggests.com