“Still” and “Close,” Gallery Series

I.

Still

 

We were strangers whispering under the silver moonlight

of sacred stories seeping through every inch of our bodies.

Deep into the night, we felt warmth from the stars above, not the cold drafts.

It was new like a translucent shell of an unwritten book,

eagerly waiting for the pencil to be held.

~

We were lovers curled up on a yellow picnic blanket

under the warm sun, feeling the air thicken with honey.

We created our own language, one that only we could understand.

It sounded like the waves humming,

and the rustling of the pages as the wind brushed by for a moment.

~

We were strangers sitting on a chipped brown bench

as the daylight yawned,

humidity clung, and the mosquitoes buzzed.

Wisps of other happier conversations carried.

Purple stains of blackberries had lain in the blades.

You said But I love you still. All I could hear

was the cracking of the shells.

 

II.

Close

 

Hold your gaze

as daylight punctures through windows

the way memories wake. 

 

Hold in words

until the teardrops escape from your eyes

in a crowded room. 

 

Hold me close

in the depths of tear-stained hearts,

where goodbyes live. 

 

Hold tonight 

as tightly as the desire of love 

on sheets, and I’ll lose again.