June 12th, 2012 | 2 Comments »

She’s pretty in the fashion of today
Not very dark skin,
bright lipstick, lash and hair extensions
She looks like she’d be pretty though underneath it all
Nice smile, bright eyes
She darts in and out of tables
Nifty on heels
and the slightly too short dress that is the hostess’ uniform
Glorified waitress really but it’s a step up from the … restaurant she’d been slogging away at
At least at this job, there’s variety
and sometimes a really big tip at these fancy dos
She has a ready smile for everyone,
pays the right amount of attention to wives and girlfriends
She tells one lady she has beautiful eyes…
she isn’t being insincere

He asks for fresh drink
He is polite, smells nice, doesn’t try to touch her,
just waits his turn for her attention
She gives him the usual service…
vague,
but he catches her eye and her smile falters,
she feels… something
He smiles back
she goes off and comes back with their orders
Careful not to linger or share another moment
They are all the same and she doesn’t need the trouble

He watches her walk away
He’s not sure why he made that moment happen,
why he made sure to look her in the eyes…
Tried to get her to smile a real smile at him…
Now she’s ignoring him…
but that means something doesn’t it?
Perhaps that she knows better, like he should.
They see each other’s type all the time
It’s her job to keep the diners and partygoers happy
His to attend these things and mingle, network,
be the face of the brand
It’s never real and it’s always tiring
rarely satisfying
He can imagine that it’s worse for her;
at the beck and call of leering men and impatient women
they all want her service
She’ll only think the worst of him and perhaps she should.
She can’t keep avoiding his table
She’s already pretended to be busy twice and sent one of the other girls over
She’s caught him looking around nonchalantly
but she can feel his intent
Maybe if she times it right he won’t be paying attention when she goes over to check on everyone
What are the chances?
Look, it’s no big deal
you’ve dealt with troublesome, hands, rude and just plain disgusting people before, this is no different!
or so she tells herself
If only he didn’t look right into her
if only he didn’t wait till he had her full attention to speak
If only he wasn’t so polite
If only she didn’t want to see that easy smile again
payment for her service
If only he didn’t smell so good
if only couldn’t see the definition through his white shirt.
If only wishes were horses….

He is going to have to leave
He can’t hang around waiting for her to get just close enough for…
him to slip her his number?
ask for hers?
This is ridiculous.
It’s Friday night and there’s a pile of work in the car
If you’ve any sense you say your goodbyes,
press the flesh
and stop wasting valuable time.
or so he tells himself
If only he wasn’t intrigued by her
those bright eyes and sweet smile.
If only he didn’t admire her patient handling of petulant guests
her service
If only he hadn’t seen her stop to take a break…
climbing down from those heels when she thought no one was watching
If only her legs still didn’t go on forever

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January 24th, 2012 | No Comments »

You are both in love always in that moment
Intense on the edge
Begging to tip over
Begging to stay in that moment
Forever.
The veil is drawn
No questions unanswered
You know all, love all.
Unhearing, unseeing, you drift
Away on the high
Complete, whole.
Then it’s awakening;
Eyes drawn, you gaze
You may feel but can not really know –
That moment has been someone else’s too perhaps
You’ve been there before too but this seems
More.
It is lived for, the daily routine a dance
To this point
Time apart only prelude to forever.
You couldn’t have seen that otherness coming
Now a stranger with a stranger.
It stays with you.

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January 19th, 2012 | 2 Comments »

I have been in love and then, almost inevitably, have had my heart broken. Both are felt deeply and physically and colour the world as bright and as dark as only they can. The falling was accompanied by a soundtrack of hours spent listening to music newly discovered in common or shared as new and then becoming part of our canon. Metaphor and literal, music was a deep vein that sometimes bled in response to the joy or pain that comes from having your heart so wide open and wrapped around the object of your affection. It was a betrayal to see or hear him share songs with anyone else. Trivial you may think but for me a sign of disloyalty – our secret treasures shared with strangers, interlopers. We can be so focused on the wrong things! We grew, as did the collection, our finds so intertwined we could not tell who the credit should go to and didn’t really care. Playlists shared, songs sent over thousands of miles, a thread linking me to you, proof of life, of love. Now I am left with thousands of memories, reminders. I crave silence and then find I cannot live without the music even as it is a thousand pinpricks drawing blood with each memory.

Recently found, a rare simultaneous find, in a moment between late night and early morning, this song and it’s heartfelt video came as a beautifully wrapped gift. It moved and held us silent together, in love with music together. Rhythm and melody, lyrics and movement all perfectly, heartbreakingly in sync – like the best moments of falling and being in our love.

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