You’re ten feet in front of me laughing. I walk up to shake your hand. Your smile breaks me. The heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next, hungry distraction. And I hope I look like yours too. And you might have been a nightmare, but you were definitely wrapped up in dreams. And you might have been a nightmare, but at least you kept me awake. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next secret. And I hope that I look like yours too. And we may have been whispers, but at least I could keep you to myself. And you might have been a whisper, but at least your voice nuzzled my ears. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next dance. And I hope I look like yours too. And we may have spun in dizzy circles, but at least our steps matched. And you may have spun me in dizzy circles, but at least we always came back around. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next destruction. And I hope I look like yours too. And we may have torn each other apart, but at least we built the moments worth breaking. And I may have torn you apart, but at least I razed your walls. And your smile breaks me. And the heat that builds inside me is wildfire. And I think you look like my next, infinite ending. And I hope I look like yours too. And you may have never ended for me, but at least I know I’ll stay for you too. And we may have never ended, but at least we won’t start again.

Moonwalking on ledges,

she dramatically exits.

:)

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:(

There is no way I can open up a can of black olives without thinking of you. What are the olives trying to say? They do not speak but they remember for me, because much of what happened back then is fuzzy, but not the day we decided together by pooling our pennies, we had double the buying power. Why was it that both of us deeply craved black olives at the exact same time? Could it be we could read each other’s minds? I’ve often wondered why we didn’t choose to buy a black and white cookie or Carvel flying saucers instead. Did we crave salt because of all the tears? I know you cried too because I felt your pillow in the morning. Why did you hide your tears from me? I could have held you like you always held me. Remember when we decided we couldn’t take it anymore and we would run away? But how could we? Where we would go? You made it all possible, planning every detail, always taking charge. “Go to the window at midnight. I will be waiting for you below. Trust me. When I say jump. Jump. I will catch you.” And I listened. Believed you. And you caught me without blinking, stoically, as if all along it was your arms I belonged in. Could it be we were two bodies, two beating hearts as close as the moon and earth during a total lunar eclipse? Born second, 921 days after you, what did you do for all those moons without me? Were you lonely? Waiting? Did you wonder what I would look like when our mother held you lovelessly on her lap with me right behind you in her womb? Could I have known the one that carried me would not be the one who carried me through, caught me? It was you all along, the one I sang Edelweiss with in the subway station, under the earth, too young to be off on our own. Fledglings. She would send us away again and again to be rid of us and we went, wandering aimlessly, wondering when the nightmare would end. It didn’t. We both know we are still haunted, but can we stop for just a minute and think about what it would have been like if we didn’t have each other? I cannot. Will not. And if the time comes that you need to be carried, please know I will be here to catch you. Let me. You have carried me for far too long.

Pink motels

and sweet tea.

Flamingos on the lawn.

Produce stands

and banjos—

multi-color dawns.

Country homes

with rope swings.

Mullet jumpin’ high.

“Cracker” jokes,

tall live oaks.

Tasty key lime pie.

Sunshine

on the water.

Palm fronds on the street.

Spanish moss.

Games of toss.

Soup with gator meat.

Florida …

I love you—

hot though you may be.

Never change

or re-arrange

your kingdom by the sea.

Free association.

Uh-oh.

I almost feel sorry for those who decide to try and follow the ramblings that occur when I free associate. I wonder who they are. Do they do this as a hobby, or as part of their job?

My job is calling me from the other window, so I may have to interrupt this writing to get some actual work done, but I couldn’t resist doing this. It is an exercise I frequently use to get my creativity rolling.

Creativity is part of my basic nature, and defines me in some ways. I am very sedentary—I need to get out and do more—but even when I am sitting still, my mind is building, creating, composing, and designing. Maybe that’s why I turned to writing, to channel some of that mental energy.

If only I could turn it into physical energy. My body is growing more and more distant from my concerns, and is probably due to the dissolution years ago, of my long-term relationship and marriage. 33 years is a very long time, and trying to start over in a relationship at 56 is almost laughable, for someone who spends every day touching lives and helping others through words on a screen.

I think that lack of concern about looks and no longer feeling the need to worry about being physically attractive, is the main reason I have allowed myself to become fat and lazy, and have chosen to focus instead on my writing.

That sounds like I regret being who I am, but I don’t. The best lesson I learned when my wife chased her own demons off into the distance, is the rediscovery who I am—and I really do like the guy I found.

My wife. Estranged life-partner? I don’t even know who she is anymore. We have never divorced, but I haven’t seen her now in years. We have 5 kids, and 14 grandkids in common, but very little else.

I could continue to write from my left brain all day, but I still have a lot of work to do editing and producing other author’s words. At least being a book designer, editor, and publisher fills my brain with things to think about.

As if I need it.

See me,

I begged,

hoping you would look up and meet my eyes.

But even if you looked,

you would not see.

Even if you saw,

it would not be me.

For your gaze passes right through,

piercing my heart and shattering it.

Hear me,

as I whisper comfort to your ears.

Where even when no one hears your voiceless cries,

I will be there,

listening,

always.

Feel me,

and my presence,

I always was,

and always will be there for you.

Even when everyone has let you down,

even when they did not see you for who you were,

I will be there.

Catch me,

you ask.

For you have fallen,

but not beyond return.

I promise,

this time I will be there for you,

so catch this heart I give to you.

I asked you to see,

but you could not.

So, I will ask you once more,

do you see how I love you so?

See with your heart,

and not your eyes.

See me,

for I see you too