He sat with the sealskin folded in his grip, idly rubbing it with a thumb as it rested in his lap.
He remembered the day it fell into his possession ~Â still clear and sharp in his mind’s eye ~Â the gentle sway of her hips, the nuanced play of her hair on the sea breeze, her lithe, supple body erect before him.
Time… had not been kind. Continue reading “Sealskin”
One must love oneself
before the rest
in order to be true to self
What if, I ask,
that comes at a cost?
I love you as much as I am able
As much as I can
As much as the moon and stars
I ask you,
Will you love the wind?
Will you hold a torch in the darkness?
Be a beacon in the night?
Will you let my wild heart
run free
and
wind its way back into your embrace?
What is it like to love a pixie?
AÂ nymph?
Heartbreak and bittersweet,
(I imagine)
To say the least.
I thought you were gone.
I
had so many things to say, I
wrote them in a letter
several letters at a time…
I
wonder why you come around,
~ stick around ~
and leave again; I
couldn’t be bothered to reply,
but,
watching the Watcher
passes the time.
Like the turning of the seasons…
I have had the greatest itch to draw, but try finding a subject matter.
