pink saturday, short story

post it note

beverly’s pink saturday
photo: missvivien, flickr

there was something left over from our yesterday… i thought it may have something to do with you and what you said. something i didn’t see but you did. unexpected, underneath rippling wet splash

and here now mingling with today there’s that word, interchangeable… later what you saw when you seen the way we wrapped around the noon hour. do you always rise up early or only when the light wakes you?

shall we persist in the tongue barrier of written notes?  it would be much more meaningful if we gathered our sources of limitless language and continued meeting at the noon hour…a few dusty books on your side and a tattered dog-eared page left open on mine

a single sharing of duplicated thought or the invisible lust, plurality of words; listening, we heard the song she wrote in an afterthought of possibilities. something about desire, and finding a way

we can live in kismet now, and later in reminiscing we’ll recall a lifetime of crossing back and forth, only the tide and movement of the moon directing the currency of departure and arrival

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3WW

fire and smoke

monday a message waiting..come close while the white full moon caresses the clear midnight. shackled to unwritten history i hear the chanting music of his beads and feathers quietly observe the ticking of uncertainty where he has no place to print his soft moccasin feet. floating along the cool quiet river, our heads bent in one breath we divulge a delicate language filled with intimate familiarity. with simple dexterity he navigates the watered tales of ancient days when we rode together on a spotted horse racing across open windows. caught by lightning’s whim, i can do nothing but stay until we cross again in a thunderous storm.
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Bones 3 word wednesday prompt offers this week: intimate, river, waiting
photo: Dancing in the Moonlight, I am Contrast, flickr

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