See D Run

See D dance.
See D smile.
See D flirt every once in a while.

See L watch.
See L wink.
See L walk over and buy D a drink.

See D blush.
See D be merry.
See D put her number into L's blackberry.

See L stall.
See L call.
See L forget to put his guard up and fall.

See D wait.
See D contemplate.
See D get wrapped up by their 13th date.

See L touch.
See L feel.
See L tell D "This is real"

See D trust.
See D praise.
See D plan for future days.

See L lie.
See L sweat.
See L gamble without a full deck.

See D discover.
See D react.
See D wish she could take her love back.

See L beg.
See L plead.
See L cry when D tries to leave.

See D agonize.
See D part.
See D run away with a broken heart.

Your song (unfinished I think)

I can't get your song out of my head
I keep humming your memory subconsciously conjuring your energy to me
Peaceful in those moments I remember your melody and intricate harmonies
They blend in with my thoughts; create a soundtrack to my day
Sounds something like love, something like pain, something like anger, something like praise
Deep lows that resonate long after the note is played, that stay with me while the higher tones dance lightly through that space
Takes me back to that place, the one where we were in grace
And the rhythm matches my beating heart's pace
Your song is long. It has a beginning, a middle, but the ending seeks change
It always comes to me like a song I wrote
Only each time the writing has a different hope:
Continuity vs. Change, Freedom vs. Chains, Love vs. Escape.

Story ending.

I dance close to a Jamaican with rhythm like mine,
Let the vibes that we're feeling clutter my mind
Foreign fingers move over a familiar place
Find the dips and valleys you used to trace
I close my eyes let the music lead my escape
For a moment I no longer feel the bundle of hate
I let go, let my hips roll, let his hands be in control
I sway against him and I can feel his energy start to grow..
And I know he knows I know...
But I can't help it if my curves beckon thoughts of intimacy
Should I deny myself this feeling b/c he's really feeling me?
I mean he's really feeling me, and to my surprise I kind of like it
First I hesitated then I thought, "girl why you even fighting it?"
You didn't fight it when you told her the words you said belonged to me
And I bet you didn't fight lying when she asked "who is she"
But you can't lie to me...wait, not again with this vent
I won't let thoughts of you ruin how I feel about his scent
Because now he's holding me around my waist
And I'm buried in his neck-such an intimate embrace
I barely know this person but I know his place
He's not a lifetime or a season but he is damn sure a reason
Because now when I see you I no longer get butterflies
Those wings got clipped or maybe the energy died
Or they're stuck in a tangled web of hurtful lies
Or moved on to the same song over a different beat
So I don't protest when he tells me that I taste so sweet
But don't worry; I won't let him play for keeps.
He won't even get the chance to really know me or adore me.
Because he's not a new beginning but the ending to your story

Climax

Men sometimes wonder why women hold on to men who are no good for them or no good in general...

Here's my take on the idiocy of even the most intelligent women:

Women love to climax.

Once you spark that feeling and it starts building....pulling out before we reach our destination is a cruel, wicked, evil thing to do.

What does that have to do with us staying emotionally glued to a dude who is incapable of giving us what we need?
At some point along the journey, Old Boy showed us (or tricked us into thinking) he had what it takes to get us to our emotional destination.
At some point of the journey, second date, twenty fifth conversation, 21st question...
He had us thinking he had the tools it took to take the ride we could give him.
So when this same passionate stallion ends up being a one trick pony it takes a lot for us to forget the image he had at some point painted for us.
Which is the real him? Is he really that horrible or is he just being lazy?
Did we do something that changed the game? Did his ADD kick in?

Just like during sex, men seem to be easily distracted. I say this because a man can start envisioning unsexy things in order to try to make the ride last longer.
A Woman? (Especially the passionate ones like me...) We're focused on the ride. We're focused on the movements and the connections and the steam and the pressure that's going to get us up that mountain to the peak we all seek.

And there again we can relate this scenario to our opposite sexes as we take our natural instincts and nurture each relationship (good or bad) trying to make it last and take us to that peak. So all these questions must be answered before we can finally let go.

At the very least during sex or during a relationship we need to feel that both parties gave it all they got. If it didn't work after that, if the chemistry is off, if the connection isn't there...no love lost.
But being with a lazy lover? An emotionally stunted partner?
It's the worst kind of torture.
And that need to climax makes us try everything to get him up that hill, past his premature ejaculations, over his fear of commitments, and into that climactic moment.

But what do I know...

I love him

He looks at me with beautiful brown eyes that are just like mine
His whole little body's comforts and joys, expectations and needs found between our gaze
He holds me hostage with no chain. For him I'm a willing slave.
He coos orders; his cry is like a crystal bell I run to answer
For that one perfect smile in that one perfect moment in time
I'd run through Hell...
10 little perfect toes
1 little perfect nose
I call him my perfect gift; my Love's truest wish.
There is no better feeling than my beating heart comforting him into a deep sleep
His tiny hands resting on my chest
I'm spoiling him - I know.
I should lay him on his own, maybe run some errands while the time is my own.
But I'd rather stay in this zone.
Perfectly still I let the sound of his breathing secure my happiness.
These are the moments I'll miss when time marches him through his terrible twos, his confusing adolescence and his angry teenage years.
Time is so cruel. I close my eyes and pray that maybe these seconds can be longer than the rest.
Give me just a little more time to enjoy this.
As much as I want to stay in this quiet perfection, I want to wake him so I can see his eyes go bright at the sight of me.
I want to recognize his father's smile when his cheeks go up in innocent bliss.
No words spoken from his little mouth.
That's how I know love isn't something you receive with words...it's something you feel.
My being bursts with the love I feel for and from this tiny angel.
This perfect gift.
My Love's truest wish.



I don't have any kids but, it is my greatest wish to someday be a mom.