Sunday, March 9, 2014


Love is a burst. Of feeling, of commitment, of gratitude, of contented bliss. Someone once asked me why I was single. Answered simply, people are selfish and I am too giving and I have not found a true accomplice who makes me burst forth. But I always have hope.

Saturday, March 8, 2014


You have many marvelous looks and I secretly note each one, contemplating what they mean. I watch your hands as you express yourself without words. Your lovely eyes and hands tell a beautiful story. I watch and listen like an enchanted child.


The simple comfort of someone's slow breath drifting off and the quiet warmth of waking to sleepy skin. The close, intimate business of joined slumber requires a body's ability to fully trust and relinquish; the most contented of all exhales. This feeling I seek forever eludes me.