Above All Else

You’ve made yourself comfortable in my head and I never really had a say. I see images of you come and go, always leaving me a little out of breath. Your eyes I usually remember first when you are not here but crave to be alone. And when you’re gone, I wish I wasn’t so shallow as to always revere your beauty first, but it is your inner wealth I love the most. Although I’m not even sure if that’s the truth, because from your eyes, your smile, my thoughts always drift off to the whole of you: your freckles, your mind, your laugh. I wish I could say that’s where I linger, but in my thoughts I’m always quick to explore your scars, dents and curves. And unlike before I do not wish to be repaid for giving you pleasure for it is your happiness I seek above all else.

Misconception

“I won’t mention her to you,” he said, “I promise.” The smile he gave me genuine. He was convinced I was the lucky one for he was interested in me. After all, hadn’t I been the loyal friend to lure him into bed? The fact that he had just left his wife and now asked to move in with me a form of flattery for him, a sign of devotion not shared by me.

 

A Writer’s Confession

Nothing infects me more than hearing you speak about your work.
Or the silence you express when you review yourself.
Your eyes transfixed onto your art, no interruptions welcome,
no phones, no words.
Your eyes speak so much truth, reveal your love,
conveying what’s going on inside your mind.
Your perception so exceptionally yours,
fuelled by experience and that hunger to be nothing but yourself.
Your dedication visible as you focus with a director’s eye,
the smile that follows sparking mine.