I don’t remember how I felt
holding your naked body
against mine, our lips pressed
together, then silent mouthing
words lost in that moment.
We stayed there not speaking
our pulses slowing, regulated
by the silence, and it’s a shame
silence had to come then
when I had a head full of ideas.
It was just easier to lay there
solemn as a London guard
at post before change.
Looking down
into the clear blue
depths of your eyes
beneath my outstretched arms
toes gripping the edge hard
trying not to lose balance
in the wind
blowing my hair back
like I’m James Dean
and you’re frozen in place
the last second
before a movie kiss
your eyes solid
clear
clear blue
if I fall, will you catch me?
[b]The Library[/b]
A whispered hush blankets the musty room.
Pen and paper merge to pick up any
hitch hiking thoughts.
Pages rip, in disgusted fury, exposing their naked predecessors.
The silence breaks by whispered halls.
Eyes flutter, re-crust over in sleep.
Shuffled footsteps and muffled voices drift by
while half yellowing books stagger their dormant lives.
Their tattered spines hunched over on shelves like gossiping wenches sunning
their frail bodies in the fluorescent light.
My gaze, focused, upon the hundreds of thoughts steaming from bent heads.
Silent, unspoken.
Dancing around the mind like forbidden taboo.
The books hold on cover for my spying eyes,
craving the knowledge of free thought clouding up the musty room.
Curious as a boy, finding his first porn.
Glancing for only a second or so
And jealous of these dying books
staring into the face of any wondering soul.
For hours upon hours
Page after page — thoughts absorbing thoughts.
by Alicia Ranney
([email]boxdchick [at] aol [dot] com[/email])
