sonneillon
Deep set stone steps flicker with the light
Of swaying tree branches and city swept
Leaves.
Brown and red, sticking in crannies and gutters and
Slick from the morning mist, these autumn fingers and hands
Find their grip against closed shop doors.
Those little scratching feet leave their mark
Like animal-shaped shadows
As their voices lift and shriek into the air.
Trailing fingertips
Find fine lines and smooth shapes
Against warming skin.
Slow breaths punctuate the air
Until a curve is struck,
Releasing a gasp
And a mouthful of words
And teeth and
Sound and
Silence
Tendrils and spinning webs
find their home in crooks
and crevices
In the hard rock
And crushed sea shells.
You reach out your hand -
I find your fingers, navigating the
Ground below.
It's that hard slam against shoulder,
Side, elbow, as you collide
Setting off a vibration that travels from
Your toes to the tips of your fingers
That leaves you breathless.
It's that dizzying feeling down South-East-West-oh-God and
You're stuck with the shakes
And his name on your tongue
As he claims your lips.
Mary leans over the pot of boiling water, prodding the pasta with a fork. The steam sticks to her face, and clings to her eyelashes.
When the front door creaks open, only then does she turn away from the meal. His broad shoulders are framed by the kitchen door, suitcase at his side. A smile breaks out across her face, as the water overflows from the pot and sizzles on the hot plate.
You're like a storm --
Lightning eyes, and rough cheeks
Soft sweep of lips
And a golden glow that peeks out
Between jeans and shirt.
It's this constant fight
To keep my fingers to myself
And your lazy smile
Leaves the fastest beat,
Squeezing the air from my lungs
With a suppressed gasp. A stutter.
I'm drowning and hoping.
You rip it from me --
Your fingers grasping
I can hardly believe it.
Like cables snapping,
I short circuit and shut down.
Slow, contemplated,
You break me down,
Leaving me breathless
With only the quick skip
Of my heart.
Lips, tongue, mouth
Fall against my own
In a furious tug of war
Eyes, hair, skin -
Soft - and I can feel you talking
Through your fingertips
And the vibration of your body
Against mine.
Trailing sparks over your arms,
You shiver and gasp
In a goodbye,
In a surrender I'll never forget.
Like insurgents running from the shore
Chasing and panting,
It slides and captures. Cunning and
Crazed, it grabs onto boots
And flying limbs,
Itching to pull them under.
Icy fingers twitch, beckoning them closer,
To show them the green and slippery
Graves below.
Seconds pass;
Slow and calculated
Shadows drift and settle
On stone walls, and walkways.
But with each city beat
Footsteps follow;
Calm, rushed, frenzied -
A confusion of sound
Falling to a dull rhythm
Of the cement heart.
load more entries
writing since 2009 · 41 entries · 41 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means sonneillon showed up.
28longest streak
41days written
0.2entries / week
the words sonneillon reaches for
fingersslowlipsairhardagainstlightleavingsoftdeepskinsilencewhitesoundbrokenwood