Sleeves

Sleeves tattered and torn, my heart battered and worn,
an old Def Leopard song humming its own tune in the background…
Comfort on a fall evening, late, past my bed time for sure
My thoughts waft back to that night when you last wore the shirt I’m wearing today.
We sat together gazing at the stars and wondering how in the world we got this far
and Together. That was the strangest part of it all.
But now, no. No more us and I don’t think there ever was.
I still wear your shirt. It doesn’t smell like you, in case you were curious.

“Save me” she whispers.
I can barely catch her worlds before they are stolen from me by the wind.
Damn Atlantic Ocean. As if it didn’t steal enough from me already.
“Can you?” this time more urgent.
I pause, carefully articulating my query. “Will you let me?”
Now she leads the dance. I turn my head to the right, away from her, towards the mist that has begun to form on the top of the ocean. Rolling off in waves, simulating the movement of the lifeforms, the mist carries my fears toward me.

“Look at me”. She begs me, softly, before caressing my bare shoulder with her face. “I need you to save me.”

“I’ve tried before Cat, and it just didn’t work. I don’t know that I can try again.”

Her auborn hair, curled and untamed, called me closer to her. I leaned in, letting my cologne blend with the sand and her hair and her

In a most familiar of waves, I took her tiny hands in mine and lifted her to her feet. We began the dance that I had introduced her to only a year ago. Step to the side with your right leg. Her skirt billowing like streamer strokes my leg and sends shivers upmy spine. Left foot close to right. Transfer weight. Our bodies move simultaneously, forming two being made alive with engery. with lust. this is what i was made to do.

Adolescent Dreams

The boys saunter in,
One after the other,
a sloppy line of untucked shirt
and untied shoes
Acting “cool” by shuffling their feet
College is just around the corner
and the “real world” beckons but
Right now all that atters is
Stonehenge and Rebecca Nurse and
the square root of 3, 497.
Papers rustle…..crash of the stapler hitting the desks
of boys with nervous looks on their faces.
Vulnerability. Unleashed for a milli-second.
Working together to complete and fulfill requirements
Not that much different from college.
A bell rings..and the boys saunter out.
The room echoes with excitement left
Unfulfilled.

~CrEaTiVe PrOsE~

Well here is the promised site, the outlet to my creative musings. I have to admit I am rather excited about it. This is a big step for me as a writer, publishing my creative thoughts. If I am to be a teacher, I have to show kids that they can’t be afraid of speaking their minds. That is one of my biggest motivations for starting this blog. I hope to contribute a little something everyday. Yes, I said every day. And I’m going to try my best to uphold that promise.

So…with that said, the first post will start tomorrow because I have to go to bed. Can’t be tired for those boys

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