black skirt

its been a long night. along few months. she pauses for a second just past the door way. her chin runs to her left sholder and her hair falls over her face. her legs stopped mid step, in heels her right toe barley kissing the wood on the floor. her face cringes togeather as she sniffles the air in though her noise, all holding back a single tear, that she never let fall... a black skirt and matching jacket. a clutch bag and two rings, she regains composer and presses on. her heels pounding the ground louder with every step. 

rising through the room like bubbles in champagne

a motion over whelming, sentient in its desire for perfection through rhythm, we are mealy the canvas carefully placed so this fluidity can take shape and flow like waves through us. willing host to a most gracious storm fixated on satisfying. the room is filled with steam and smoke, the curtains back light and tinted blue. your skin sliding over my hips, the feeling of your shins on the back of my heels, your hair in the inside of my arms and falling loosely, wildly to my fingers. your chest brushes mine as we rise then crest and repeat, each moment, each slip greater then the last, my check touches yours, flushed and most, our lips meet and continue moving, pulsating, as if separate from the rest of our bodies, and yet we are only one, every inch of us only one. still moving, still sliding, we kiss until we need to breathe, then we kiss until we are breathing each other in stead of air. 

far tofrequent home comings

she sits with her legs bented and reseting nest to her in her seat. a shirt sits drapped as light as paper rolling in the breeze, jumping of her knees over and over then returning. its almost to cold to be waring the lights long sleave, almost. her fingers correse a glass of wine, more spun in the glass and inhaled then sipped. the suns starting to set and theres lines of gold shooting through the clouds, soon they'll be pink and brilliant red, soon he'll be home. her eyes follow the sounds of leaves falling from there perches and occasional birds fetching there lovers for dinner, blindly her eyes move, in reality just listening. her nails run allong the bottom of the glass she takes a deep breath and then a long sip, allowing every taste to cristalize before swollowing the necture down. a car rumbles softly in the distance, one leg slips from her side and rests on the floor as leans forwards searching the road for the lights, its been 3 weeks and shes grown to long the taste of his breath more direly with ever in hale of her wine. she closes her eyes and finds him in her thoughts, knowing he is close, finally getting closer. she leens back and finishes her wine as the car pulls in, then with one deep swollow and aprehensive pause, she stands, eyes still closed, he lifts her from her feet and spins in bautiful embrase, then kisses her face and finds her lips, shes smiling, "still you?" you asks in his ear. he wispers back, "and still yours."

dinner

the fire glows in the corner splashing shadows and brilliance over her face. we sit next to each other in a booth facing a wall. memories of pasta, pine nut, and shrimp. red wine still soaking our glasses and diluting out minds. warmth. warmth not felt for many days slides beteen our skin as a brush in seat. as if a single soul we pass a smile back and fothe between us. smooth skin and soft lips. go wine and a love more honest then film.

a prayer.

seven shades. seven shades of black spill into by canvase. every one as qunic and utterly im perfect as the last. defining all inchich i am. they are the face to the what you could never. defined on paper with a shiny gloss, an image poured out of light, then made perfect with vingar and acid. the water is always running the a blood red room. closing your eye. no sight is needed to know that the black and the whites will prove perfection. the shades make face. skulls. the very matter that makes the eye blink. cuts to the soul then flows into the light and lays down on paper waiting for the chemicals to trap in its light.

Teger Station- reil returns

inspired by gods with the crystal glare of star burnt brightness engulfing her vision. a signal arm stretching, pale, strong, no sign of a human form. skin like silk, coarse and flowing over what ever veins lay underneath, defying all logic as a face follows the arm. still with the light at his back, from his eyes, burning orbs contained by no shade of glass or thickness of wall, now burning the back of her retina, she knows she must look away, but she can not break the gaze, what she cannot see some how holding her mind in place. her head of-coarse follows, forgetting the presence of her neck, all below her might as well have vanished, for with out any direct communication she has lost them. she doesn't notice, but she no longer needs to breath, her hair no longer falls to her shoulder, he heart, no longer pounds, and she, of-coarse, cannot blink; her eyes beyond entranced. still staring up, the light, his voice, if only i could reach, the hand so close, my arms, no need, i need only think it. he mind found the fingers of the heavens gently grazing the side of her cheek, emitting a warmth that she had never felt. he smiles, his eyes soften, fingers find their way to lay behind her ear, then his mouth opens, the sound of a train comes screaming out. i wind pulls her, her eyes blink violently, and she falls slightly backwards bending at the knees, feeling suddenly cold, and defend, the train flying only a few feet in front of her. she knew she had been fatally, close, she looked up and down the tracks as a light in the distance flickered twice then deadens. then forward in time to see the last window of the last car on the train fly by, it is him, im the window, looking out, hand pressed to the glass, waiting for her, to see her face, then disappear. follows him with her eyes her face and all of her body not believing his eyes, and as quickly as all things pass, he is truly gone. she stands momentarily stunned. felling the dry cold burn her cheeks and hands, drying the inside of her noise as it struggled to cling to more. she then becomes animated once agian, searching for a second, then finding her purse no more then a step behind her on the paved station floor. she picks it up brings it to her shoulder leaving her hand against her cold tan leather jacket to hold the strap in place and walks a few paces to the pay phone. with out thought she dials, a voice calm, gentle, not her voice, but her others, mine, "Teger station?" "yes" "i can make it in 4 min. if you need it." "he was here, i cant remember why or how, but i say, him, then on the sub way, please com.." "ive already left and i made coco, for the ride..." "...but how did you know..." "i saw him as well, he told me i would pick you up."
the silence was neither awkward nor comfortable, steady nor violent, it was simply understood
"i just pulled in."
"i love you"
"what we share is not to be held to the restraints of words, no more then our world is"
an shaky smile starts to twitch upon her face, i continue
"i love you"
her eye releases a single tear
"im here"
the light in the phone booth then starts to flicker, and with out hesitation she places the phone on its nest, and takes the 9 steps to the cars, by the 4th the light was out, i wait at her door,
"he cant hurt us"
she holds tight to my body with her shoulders around my neck, i return the act, starting to loose my self in the safety of our embrace,
we both at once release.
a single kiss and i start to my said of the car.
sitting driving, sipping hot coca, she says only one thing,
"hes getting stronger"
then science. she knows i understood.

big plans and broken dreams

big plans broken dreams. thats the article. i named it and wrote. out of 96 usable photograohs from my dard room 31 were publised along with 9 pages from my journal. theres one that stand out in my mind more then all the rest. it got the cover. i dont even know why i care about that. well its the next 8 months rent and it payed for all the travel. the money was unexpected but it doesnt mean a god damn thing. the image was taken just out side of the village, as the sun was rising.. in black and white. there are 4 tress in the background all changing and manipulating trings of light through fog in ways that just dont seem logical. theres a boy riding a bike up the street, the front wheel cut off by the edge of the picture he has is brother on his shoulders. the brother with chin resting on olders, looking almost limp. i superemposed a man out side of the back over the right side. he was smug. almost evil i dont know how to discribe it. and yet it was 24 page article. it just jumped at me. this is basic. ive had too much to drink and im not thinking. i should sleep. shes waiting.