Sanctuary unsullied by the hustle

Worship in its purest form untroubled

Air gently caresses my nasal cavity

Inhaling the beauty

Releasing every doubt that would hinder me

Embracing this moment for all it be

The magic of this moment feels like a dream

My eyes are open, taking in the sway of the leaves

Psychedelic hypnosis

...Not like comatose is

No, more like an explosion

The surge of energy thrown in

Like two lights merging

The bright makes me close my eyes and I'm left with the feeling

The feeling of safety

I'm secure

In his arms I am cherished

I am pure.

My heart burns fervently

Enveloped like a sheet

Twisted and tangled underneath

The fears and doubts of past disappointments

How do I know this time is different?

I am conscious

Awakened to the truth of the moment

Wrapped in the present

Purest revelation

Intoxicating sensation

Yet unmistakably real...

The glow of his essence

Mysteriously incandescent

Filled with untold stories reminiscent

Of dreams held by a younger me

Visions of my Prince Charming

Dreams that had been fading

Into the dark of hopeless dating

Our light shines forth here

All hesitation disappears

Each moment reveals

How hope heals

Makes the heart bold

Opens the deepest caverns of the soul

Melding the two of us into one

Apart of a grander whole

Neighbors in time

Lovers in space

Longevity is the goal

Endurance sets the pace. 

Hesitation and uncertainty is a choice.

Life is too short to spend precious moments with just my feet in your pool of prestigious promise and potential.

I'm diving in ...and praying the cool water of everything you are catches me in the depths of your extraordinary uniqueness.

I'm swimming through the expanse, discovering your current.

Ever present, gauging the temperature of how you feel, breathing deep, standing still.

Here, soaked with understanding insight and empathy.

Floating in your embrace of sincerity.

Brace yourself for the splash of me entering you,

Nothing between us.

Heart in my hand,

Head wrapped in courageous.

Universe, listen

This woman needs a lease on love

Dull the edge of uncertainty, put hesitance on pause.

Give her a year or six months, to measure the worth of a lifetime bet

This woman is not ready for forever just yet,

But she longs for a commitment,

A binding of peace

Where both he and she knows to do the best to keep the lease

While acknowledging the voluntary agreement.

See 'cause the pain will never cease

If one is thrown into love’s fire always to be burned.

The fire should incinerate all desire for anyone else,

The heat is a chance to feel warmth hardly felt,

In this cold world of illusive and unlimited choices

Heads on a swivel, open to alternatives

No patience for her to trust enough to reach out her hands

Because her love is so fierce, She fears he won't understand

It can fill him up, thrill him right

Transform his perspective, change his life

Yes, she holds a love that changes paradigms

But the freezing cruelty of the cold makes focus feel like a waste of time.

She needs him to unravel his security blanket, closed off

Revel in the moment, build with effort, seek the pay off

Because it feels his trust is at a distance,

His heart so far away

She only catches glimpses 

In the silent whispers, but what does he say?

She needs to know she’s his hope and

Just as he needs to know he's her bae

But each one afraid to speak, afraid to be heard

So, Universe, listen!

Create a safe place for the two to hide

So she can get into it

And see him follow behind

Let them know their trust is loyally held.

She desires to stay, show him all of what she’s made

He desires to be known, and to know she wants to stay

And Universe, let them each know any thought to end it all

Makes the romantic endeavor fall, absurd

While a desire to build it, ahh

Always works better with intention and one accord.

Racing, flowing, knowing which way to go

Rippling, shifting, always onward though

Shaping, pushing, a driving force along

Present, impending, a relentless song

Standing, observing, receiving light from the sun

Waving, staying, rooted for impression

Awe-inspiring, budding, fragrance exudes

Planted, unmoving, bearing all, fragile and nude

Sitting, wandering, writing fluent prose

Dreaming, wishing, ready to expose

Breathing, thinking, creating endless good

Alert and manifesting destiny, just as a queen should.

Rare and precious

Hidden for ages

Revealed to a select who neglected to keep it

Behind glass, admired

Longed for, desired

Inside the jewel blazes fire

Dreams of journeys

Hopes inspire

Fights the hands who want to lock her up

Take her home and leave her

Sparkling where no one can see her

Selfishly hoarded, an ether

Permeating peace so tender

Desperation burns within

For freedom and a companion

Carry her to the farthest reaches of the land

Safe at his chest, hanging about his neck

Pulse, beat, ebb, flow

An endeavor, together

Win her, keep her

Closer

Show her the world as it is seen

Reveal the jewel pristine

A real treasure, a queen

To all around to see

But most importantly

Show the jewel her wings

Let her fly and sing

She needs no one

Though she longs

She can rise alone

Her throne is made for one.

Days ago, I journeyed through a maelstrom as the world caught fire. Arson of the highest degree of heat and treason. I was able to escape the carnage in the midst of the confusion. I lost my way, searching for lower ground to escape the black ash and smoke filling the air and blinding my eyes, making everything unrecognizable. I covered my face with a babushka and pressed through the crowds until I came upon a manhole. I climbed down into the sewers to wait. I didn’t carry much food, and my water is contaminated with ash and dust from the scramble. I pray things quiet down soon enough to live to see the end of this madness.

When I came through, I am the only one to see what burned. For the idea of what burned is already forgotten by those who burned it. Lifeless, charred bodies are scattered through the streets. the hope of the resistance sputtering like the lingering flames along what used to be grass. The chaos and confusion misplaced the passion, incurring violence and direct insurrection. The war jets responded too quickly for this to be a random occurrence. The missiles were already locked in, aimed for the protest. The city lied in ruins. Help is far from ever coming. All that is burned is forgotten by those who burned it.

Misfits, hustlers, and blue collar workers were all gathered here for answers. I among them to find her. Heart the size of this world’s deepest canyon, she tirelessly fights to give a voice to the people. This gathering, her way of showing each one of them the support of the other through community. I came to warn her. I came to tell her the jets overhead were not there to protect her. I knew I was putting myself in danger. I could not bare the thought of losing her. Swallowed by the maelstrom, she disappeared in the smoke. All evidence that would help me find her was set ablaze, surely apart of fields miles away, adrift in the wind. I can’t report her missing, the powers that be are behind the devastation. And all that is burned is forgotten by those who burned it.

All that is burned is forgotten by those who burned it.

No stake, no claim to the promised glory.

No skin in the game, nothing to lose in the pain.

No good fortune comes to anyone who is inhibited the chance to earn it,

And all that is burned is forgotten by those who burned it.

~A piece written in collaboration with The Grimn~

Asparagus is slimier than okra if boiled for too long. The crisp, stout structure slips beneath the knife, as Bea attempts to slice into bite size pieces. The loud noise of metal against the glass plate startles the couple a table over.

“Oh, excuse me,” Bea quickly apologizes. Sending a slightly embarrassed smile to the eyes gazing in her direction. Her date reaches across the table to caress her hand resting next to her plate. “Have you heard a word I’ve been saying to you?” Bea grinned and withdrew her hand, nodding but unable to recall anything. Rick cleared his throat, “So what you do think?”

“What do I think about what?”

“The proposal.”

“The movie?”

“Wow, Bea.”

“Rick, what are you talking about?”

“You looked directly at me and said you understood earlier… and when you stared at your plate, you prodded me to go on. And now you don’t remember?” Rick carries a hint of frustration in his voice as he lifts his napkin to wipe his mouth, looking around to see if anyone is eavesdropping.

“I spaced. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.” Bea sighs, wishing she could disappear.

“Well I wish you were here with me.” Rick sat back into his chair, staring at how lovely Be a looked with her curly hair stacked high on her head with flower combs. Even then she seems to gaze through him as she looks in his direction.

“Bea, what is it?”

“Asparagus. It’s good when it’s done right. But once you ruin it, there’s no saving it, you know, it’s just awful at that point.” Bea could feel her eyes welling with tears as she continues, “There’s really no point to salvage the asparagus once it’s been overcooked. The only thing to do with it is toss it away.”

Rick interrupts, “If you don’t like the asparagus, we can have it swapped or taken away, no need to cry about it, hon…”

“I’m not crying, Rick!” Bea blurts out as a tear falls down her face and she swipes at it. Lowering her voice, she leans forward, “I’m not crying about the damn asparagus, Rick. And I’m sorry because you’re a nice guy and you don’t deserve this level of crazy on just the third date, but I have to be honest with myself. This…” Bea motions between the two of them, “this will not ever work. It’s boiled. Overdone. Flimsy. Weak.”

“Excuse me?” Rick begins to feel heat rise in his face, watching all the projected hopes and plans with this beautiful woman start to crumble in his mind. “Bea… it’s so soon. How can you know?”

“I’ve always known. I’ve been running from the truth.” Bea turned her eyes back down to the mush on her plate, blurring from her welling emotions.

“Oh yeah, and what exactly is that?” Rick braces himself, thinking of possible responses.

“Every man will overcook to mush in the hot waters of comparison to the one I truly love.”

“Oh so, this other guy, he’s not a veggie huh?” Rick began to chuckle at the metaphor before pausing and recollecting Bea’s words: “flimsy” and “weak.”

As if she could read his mind, she begins to laugh. “No, no. He’s definitely not a veggie. He is a boiling torrent… a burning flame.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, Bea. If he’s all that, why aren’t you with him? Or is it that he doesn’t want you? Ha! The irony…”

“No, I’m sure he wants me. I’ve just been so caught up in how things would work with our differences and the perpetual distance between us… we’ve been fond of each other for years, but never together long enough to really see…” Bea trails off, musing.

Rick gives his card to the waiter as he passed, and looked at Bea. Be a caught him watching her and sat up straight. She shrugs and smiles. “Have I ruined our date?”

“Nah. No worries. I look forward to the day I can be that to someone. If I were you, I’d figure it out with him. Life is too short to search for someone you love in other people. You’ll only be disappointed.”

Bea nodded. She takes a sip of wine. “Rick, thank you for dinner and the chat. I hope you find her soon.”

“Thank you, Bea. My pride is hurt, but I’ll recover. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Rick raises his glass to meet hers. Bea prays silently in her toast for courage to ride the steamy stream.

 Morning light warms his cheeks as he reaches high above his head in a stretch and yawn. Ice monster of the night has retreated with the darkness, leaving warmth in the air for a great day. Papa made a skylight again, leaving space for him to see the sky through the overhanging sheets making the fortress. Sam slept on a palette of leaves and trash he shared with his mixed terrier Captain. She has looked after him for half his life. Before Mama left this world, Captain would always let her know if Sam needed something. If Sam was hungry, Captain would howl. If Sam was afraid, Captain would chase her tail to make him laugh. Sam loved Captain more than anything. He never had many toys like other kids, but having his very own regal pet sister made all the difference. Sam had only three fingers on one hand due to an accident when he was a toddler. Captain would help anytime Sam depended on his hands to carry or hold things by sharing the load. Sam could usually feel her snuggled at his knees each morning, keeping him warm, but she must have left the tent to potty further in the brush.

Sam sat up, looking through the cracks of the folds, tuning out the sounds of traffic overhead on the interstate. He reached for his canteen of water to drink and found it full. Papa remembered today. Sam smiled as he gulped down his water, letting it flow down his chin and onto his chest. He rubbed his fingers on the excess wetness to clean them before eating the bread Papa brought home from the bakery last night. Sam loved collecting late at night when the workers went to toss perfectly delicious rolls and bagels. Papa did not like him leaving though. Papa says he could be in danger if people see him, but he hasn’t had any problems. His Papa worries too much.

Ice monster seemed to have breathed on the bread all night, desiring to steal it but too afraid of Papa’s wrath. What was soft and chewy 10 hours ago is now hard and stale. After the second bite into his bread, Sam became concerned for Captain. He called after her and she didn’t respond. He stood, circled the camp, whistling after her. “Captain! Here, girl… where are you?” He paced, his heart quickening. She has never left off like this. Would Papa take her with him? What should he do? Sam ran into the make-shift tent, searching for his side satchel half filled with small smooth rocks, gadgets, and finds from his scavenging. Papa will not return until nightfall, Sam knew he’d be back with plenty of time to spare, Captain, and hopefully something he can sell.

Sam hummed an adventure tune as he kicked the small pebbles from the loose asphalt with his stringless shoes. He looked under bushes, around trees, and called after Captain for what felt like hours before seeing a flash of tan and brown a block away. Sam carefully crossed the street and ran to the area he saw Captain. He was standing between rather large buildings where people lived and worked. He stood in the shadows of the buildings standing together lined with dumpsters, broken glass, and lost socks. Sam walked slowly, catching the shimmer of a penny here and there, collecting them into his satchel. Sam stopped when he saw a woman, lying silent half behind a dumpster against the brick back of the building.

“Missus?” He spoke quietly, scared to rouse her when he saw the blood caked on her hands, clothes, and face. What happened to her? Why are her clothes torn at the inside of her leg. Had she been shot? Sam inched closer to see if he could hear her breathing. Short, raspy breaths exited her mouth, but shallow nonetheless. He tried to move the dumpster, but his under grown eleven-year-old frame was not strong enough to budge it even a few inches. Exasperated, he gently shook the woman’s shoulders, “Missus, help me help you. Better you not be under this dump dirt.” She just moaned and leaned against him as he half dragged her legs from underneath. He noticed the stench of rotten bananas and a dead rat and felt light-headed looking at the open gash on the woman’s head where hair jutting in and out of broken skin on top.

A door slammed shut around the corner. Sam ran towards the noise, assuring the injured woman he’d return. Sam sees a lady walking quickly to a yellow car with a flat front wheel. He started after her, she would know what to do with the hurt woman. The lady had somewhat of a strained look in her eyes, as if she had been crying. Sam watched her look at her car and make a dramatic sigh. He could hear her talking to herself as he approached, “Scuse me, Missus.” He waited patiently to be acknowledged, just as Papa told him when talking to adults. He fidgeted, feeling a sense of urgency but sensing the Missus wanted him to leave. He tried smiling to show he meant no harm, but he saw her backing against the car away from him. “What?” She spoke distracted, digging in her purse while keeping a steady eye on him. He took a slight step back before beginning, “Can you spare a moment? I found a woman who seems hurt real bad just around the way. She needs help.” He watched her look past him as if she saw something or was looking for something to appear. He turned to see if it was Captain, but it was not.

“Call the police.” Missus acted like she wanted to be away from him. “They can help, I’m sort of in the middle of…” Sam reached out to grab her hand and show her his heart. He looked up into her eyes, pleading she just come and see after this woman. She fell silent, looking at the deformity of his hand before he pulled his three fingers back. Papa told him people would look at him strange, but he did not expect to feel like possum scum with an extra eye on his face. His gaze fell. “Police no come. I try—please.” He felt too much time was passing. He turned his back on the nervous lady to check on the wounded woman. When he heard Missus follow him, he gasped in relief, smiling to himself. He knew Missus was a nice lady. Why else would she be sent to him through the doors of this enormous building? He saw the woman hurting, doubled over in pain, and vomiting on the concrete. He turned to the nice lady and asked, “Can you help her?” He was not asking if she had the ability to help this woman. He was asking if she would get started already! Missus went digging into her bag and found her phone and dialed. Sam watched and listened as she spoke, “Hello operator, this is Tessa Courtland. I have a woman here, she’s badly hurt. How soon can an ambulance be sent to zone 6, 20 north, 16 west?” She paused, listening. “A young boy found her. He’s alone.” Another pause. Sam shifted on his feet. He didn’t want to get caught up here, he just wanted to make sure this woman got help. He needed to find Captain.

Missus touched his shoulder, asking his name. “Sam, missus. Son of Saayid.” Missus nodded, mouthing the words thank you as she wrapped up the call and began to perform first aid assistance to the woman slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Where’d you learn to be doctor, Missus?” He watched close, mimicking movements.

“I’m no doctor, Sam. I just know how to patch wounds and stop blood… as should you.”

“Papa teaches me everything I need to know. Sometimes I don’t listen, but I know why I should. That’s good right? Everyday, Papa tells me to keep watch over our fortress and keep the wild animals out of our chambers. But today, Captain left. I have to find her.”

“Captain?” Miss Tessa turned to look at Sam between repetitive words of comfort for the woman about the pain subsiding and help coming soon.

“She’s like sister. She watch me when little and I watch for her now.”

“Ahhh, I see. Dog or cat?” Miss Tessa began to rock the woman gently, keeping her relaxed, but awake if possible. Sam felt confident she was able to take care of the woman. He rose to leave.“Dog. I’m going to find her now and go home. Thank you, Missus.” In turning to leave, Missus grabbed his arm gently and asked him to stay. “Just until help comes, please.”

Sam settled in, personifying his smooth rocks from his satchel, recounting the adventure of the day. He became thoughtful and asked Missus, “Will Papa know I left? I can get back okay right?” Missus just smiled and took a deep breath. Missus and Sam were both distracted by the sound of the alarm and bright red and white lights closing in on them.

Medicine men came to put the woman on a stretcher. She should be okay. Sam smiled, glad that even though he’s been off course from finding Captain, he could help save the day!

He gathered his pebble people from the ground and looked up to see blue and white lights pulling in behind the hospital van. A man and woman in matching navy blue outfits start walking toward him. Sam backs away slowly, remembering a dozen things his Papa has warned him about grown ups who try to make things better but ruin everything instead. He turned to run, but they must’ve foreseen this as they sprung right to him, grabbing him by the arms, asking him to be calm. Sam knew he had made a mistake to stay with Missus. He writhed and shouted for his release."I need Captain, I can't leave her!! Let me go! Why are you taking me? I only helped!” I fought, kicking and lashing, crying knowing his Papa would be so sad he disobeyed. Worst, Captain is still out there.

All he wanted was to help and now feels punished for trying to be the hero. Sam’s entire body shakes from the force of his anxiety. He watches Missus begin to cry from the backseat of the car that catches bad people. Maybe she realizes she was wrong. Maybe he’ll be released. He sunk into the seat as the car rolled away, not counting on good things, planning his escape.

-Interrelated story to: What Makes a Day Good?

@keilawrites

No better way to start the day than to dare yourself to rise as fast as you can only to slip and fall face down on the plush carpet of the bedroom floor. The topper is reaching for the night stand as added support in rising and knocking over the glass of water you poured the night before to hydrate the first moments of the day. Fail. Alarm begins to sound and the joy of beating the clock fades as Tessa sees Chip scuttling to his corner bed with a bone from last night’s dinner that had been thrown away. Gritting her teeth, she bypassed the happy pup to find paper towel shreds and plastic strewn across the wooden floor. Glass in hand, she walked with determination around the mess to the fridge. Filling her cup from a pitcher, she gulped down the last of the water in entirety of the glass before releasing a long gasping breath of air.

“Today is a good day.” She fingered her cross charm necklace, hearing her voice aloud gave her a sense of hope as she turned to make her way to the bathroom for a shower. Ignoring Chip licking the bone incessantly in the corner, she hummed to herself as she rubbed on her hair removal cream to her legs and laced her head with raw apple cider vinegar for conditioning. Her eyes stung from the potency falling down her forehead into the corner of her eyes as she climbed into the bathtub and turned the knob for hot, steamy water. Nothing.

Tessa sucked in her breath suddenly, reaching for the cold knob to find the same result. Nothing. “Please, no. No. No.” She could feel the cream on her skin beginning to send a warm sensation, slowly heating at the surface of her skin. She ran to the kitchen sink. Nothing. She glanced at the empty pitcher on the counter and a small cry escaped her throat. She ran to her room and dabbed a towel on the wet spot on the carpet to get enough moisture to rub off the cream. She could feel her skin breaking under the friction of the dry portions of the roughly air dried towel. Tessa wasn’t sure if the vinegar burning her eyes caused the tears, or if she really had hit a wall.

Tempted to call out sick, she reached for her phone and saw a text from her boyfriend, Kyle.

“Today is the best day of your life, baby. Make it count.” Drawing a long sigh from her.

With all the push she could muster, she squeezed the remaining vinegar out of her hair and covered her slightly raw, hairless legs in a pair of slacks. She decided to wear a sweater and hat as an added layer in cover in possible musk from not bathing. She left in a hurry, cutting close to start time at work from all the surprises of the morning. The water shutoff notice lied face up on the floor with her dirty footprint from her shoes the night before carrying in groceries. She didn’t bother reading the 12-hour notice. With a deep exhale, she left the building to find her vehicle, thankfully, right where she left it, parked near the doors. As she walked towards the yellow Chevy, she noticed the front tire had been slashed.“What the…” she leaned down to see a straight line bending at the opening along the top of the wheel. “Why?” She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“’Scuse me, Missus.” She turned to see a young boy. He was covered in soot and grime, holes in the knees of his short pants, without any socks in his shoes missing laces. She began to scan the area, but he seemed to be alone.

“What?” Tessa asked curtly, reaching for her phone to check the time.

“Can you spare a moment? I found a lady who seems hurt real bad just around the way. She needs help.” His voice sounded sincere and yet, Tessa swore she heard an accent in his broken English.

“Call the police. They can help, I’m sort of in the middle of—“ the boy grabbed her hand and caused her to lose her train of thought. He was missing his two last fingers, so she felt handled by a small bird; more like a reptile with the scaly feeling of his skin against hers.

“Police no come. I try. Please.”

Her shoulders fell. She chose to forget about making it to work on time. Tessa followed the boy as he ran ahead, watching her surroundings. He rounded to the back of the building and sure as the garbage in the dumpster, a woman lied against the brick, hair plastered against what must have been sweat and tears on her face, blood along her legs and hands.

Tessa rushed over to her, checking vitals as she sought for answers. “What happened here?” The woman coughed, and doubled over in pain, grabbing her abdomen, sobbing and retching on the concrete. The boy looked at Tessa and asked, “Can you help her?”

Tessa didn’t know. Simple first aid would be the tip of the iceberg on what this woman needed. She dialed 911 and spoke to the operator. She was told to wait patiently, someone would come. Tessa propped the woman up to keep her spine straight as she lied nameless, muttering through her tears words Tessa couldn't make out. The boy identified himself as Sam. Sam had found the woman as he was searching for his dog. Apparently young Sam had disobeyed his pop by leaving their home near the interstate.

Tessa had a sinking feeling in her chest as she listened to Sam describe everything as if he were living in some epic adventure. He spoke of the darkness as cold breathe of the ice monster outside the shelter she imagined must be a tent or shed structure with a door to keep closed. He described his dog as not only a friend, but his blanket warmer for the days the monster was especially mean. Sam said he was 11, but he appeared to be no more than 7. She knew she had to tell CPS (Child Protective Services) for his own good and still, she wrestled with feeling like she would ruin the world his pop fought so hard to create to protect him from the harsh reality of homelessness. It worked. Sam glowed with an excitement she doesn't even see in her nephew's eyes when she brings him presents.

Within 30 minutes, an ambulance came ringing down the road. Police followed in its wake and took the boy. She saw a light go out in his eyes when they carried him away, kicking and begging for Captain. He wailed, "I need Captain, I can't leave her!! Let me go! Why are you taking me? I only helped!”

Tears burned the corners of Tessa's eyes as she watched. Another officer grabbed her arm, his voice broke her silent contemplation. “Are you okay?”

She bit down on her lip to keep it from quivering, feeling pain for the woman riding away on a stretcher and the anguish of the little boy separated from both Captain and his father. She couldn’t see the officer clearly through her tears, but she addressed him with an air of resolution that surprised her. “Not until I know these two are okay. I thought I was having a difficult day until I met them. And we must find Captain for Sam.”

“Who is Captain?” The officer squared up, facing her, waiting for an explanation.

“His dog. Captain is Sam’s dog. We have to look for her.”

“Miss, if you don’t mind me asking…why do you concern yourself with this?”

She used her sleeves to wipe her eyes and face, and began rubbing down her shoulders as if to remove something on her. She paused before looking him directly in the eye to speak.

“I have to make today count. I can make a difference in that boy’s life just as he saved the life of that woman who would have no doubt mysteriously died in this alleyway.” Her voice cracked and tears began to fall afresh as she thought about how she helped keep her alive too. “Dear God.” She continued breathlessly, in recognition of the impact of her being there, late as she was. The officer knelt down to pick up something, commenting on how she is the real hero of the day. He stood, holding her necklace which had somehow been dislodged while helping the woman and the boy. She thanked him and held it between her fingers again, mere hours from the last time and confidently affirmed what is always true, no matter what.“Today is a good day.” 

The officer, already walking away turned back when he heard her speak. “Are you coming?” He asked, waving his arm around, pointing in every direction. “Captain could be just about anywhere.” She smiled as she stuffed the necklace in her pocket and followed after him. Kyle was going to be so proud when he hears how she really made today count.