Dear Secret You

Last night I dreamed
I searched Space and Time,
And found no art that compared
To your beauty,
No music sweeter than your voice,
No wine more intoxicating
Than your warm, tender lips.

Poor me, I couldn't even make them rhyme. Haha!

Dreams and the Belle

I hardly remember any of my dreams. But I want to believe it is you that I always dream of. Who else can it be?
I wonder how far I am from you. How far in miles? How many steps? If I run, how long would it take before I reach you? Before my breath is drained?
Sometimes I feel so far from you; sometimes I feel so near. So near I could smell your breath. These moments I so long for. Nobody could tell that while I go about my routine, it is you that I think of. I think of how your eyes speak to mine. I think of how your touch leaves me weak and wanting. I think of how you burn me; how you melt me; how you give life to every inch of me. I think of how you listen to my heartbeat. Do you hear how my heart sings for you? Do you hear it scream your name?

Smile Again

It was 7:00 in the evening and while I was walking down Steady Street, I met Pervat. The wind was blowing cold against my face. I labored to make a smile, trying to be friendly, thinking it was the right thing to do - to greet an acquaintance in a lonely evening, hoping he would give it back. He shot me a glance, in his face a trace of what I judged as dislike and of pride. He thought my smile was a desperate attempt to ingratiate - and he laughed at it; laughed at me. I bowed to hide my reaction. Shame heated my face; my hands searched the cold of the metal under my belt. I hesitated, but finally, a sudden surge of false courage and ill reason changed my course. I turned. He was walking away. Who knew where he was going? The wind blew colder from behind me. "Pervat," I attempted, my voice, almost inaudible from doubt. I aimed and called again, "Pervat!" He turned and gave a short gasp. He afforded a smile, afraid but trying to hide it, perhaps convincing himself I was just playing a joke. A funny joke indeed. "Can I help-" He didn't finish his question. His eyes were wide in shock. I tucked my pistol back into my pants, breathed in deep, labored to make a smile, and continued on my way.