December 15, 2014
There I Am
there i am
with my hat,
with my gloves,
with my fur-lined boots...
wrapped in the designered superficiality of the world,
readied for the crunch of winter's icy-boned chill.
and yet, your glance,
the miniscule way the pupils draw back,
the ever-so-slight way the fleshy underlid lifts,
the infinitesimal way the corners of your lips dimple inward,
the molecular way invisible breath dances seductively out of your moist lips,
alters your visage, so that I am now looking at the soft intensity of a Monet painting,
animated with your every movement...
the very definition of art in life standing there in this warmed up cold.
I see myself there.
Indeed, there I am, alive when you are present,
because you have a way, so miniscule, so ever-so-slight, so infinitesimal, so very molecular,
that makes me forgo the looming winter and
strips my soul of all its undue wrappings,
and releases me freely into the heights of the warm air rising
up and up and up and eternally up.
There I Am
there i am
with my hat,
with my gloves,
with my fur-lined boots...
wrapped in the designered superficiality of the world,
readied for the crunch of winter's icy-boned chill.
and yet, your glance,
the miniscule way the pupils draw back,
the ever-so-slight way the fleshy underlid lifts,
the infinitesimal way the corners of your lips dimple inward,
the molecular way invisible breath dances seductively out of your moist lips,
alters your visage, so that I am now looking at the soft intensity of a Monet painting,
animated with your every movement...
the very definition of art in life standing there in this warmed up cold.
I see myself there.
Indeed, there I am, alive when you are present,
because you have a way, so miniscule, so ever-so-slight, so infinitesimal, so very molecular,
that makes me forgo the looming winter and
strips my soul of all its undue wrappings,
and releases me freely into the heights of the warm air rising
up and up and up and eternally up.