Sunday, February 14, 2010


A couple walks slowly down the sidewalk, their only attestant an October sky.

A brisk autumn wind riles their coats, fluttering the scarf of the young woman, howling in fury as the man pulls her close.

Their thighs brush softly; she inclines her head upon his shoulder. The pause between footfalls lengthens.

The end of their journey is reached. As the pair of shadows collides, so do their bodies, an oasis of warmth, of contentment, in a bleak, stone-embossed metropolis.

In a city that has forgotten humanity, there is a remembrance.

In a world that has belied loveliness, there is an emergence.

His hand reaches up to lower her hood, a veil pushed from the face of a bride.

The sun, the jealous bitch, hides behind a cloud to conceal her wrath.

Never has a light so bright shone beneath the lids of Venus.

Like a savage seeing for the first time his own reflection in a pool, he reaches forth, to touch a cheek so soft, so lovely, it pierces to his heart faster than any bullet, any blade.

A ripple breaks the reverie of a primitive mind.

A smile bolts the cell to an imprisoned heart.

He leans forward, his lips seeking hers; they meet upon an altar, two lives joined by something as tender and as fragile as a kiss.

Never has steel so strong flowed in the veins of Vulcan.

No comfort found in the womb of Eden could compare to that found in her eyes.

To be lost forever gazing in those depths, seeing all that is perfect, all that is pure.

God found alive in an iris, heaven in her arms.


A summer day: she lies upon a patch of green, the sunlight and her hair merged in golden harmony, cradling him in her arms until sleep performs its grand heist.


A darkened room: she sits in a chair with his child at her breast, embodied perfection, the amalgamation of two selves given physical form.


This is beauty.

This is she.

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