He haunts me in my dreams. Visions of skin and eyes and smiles and touch. Moments of bliss. Flesh. The flesh so strong. Overruling any sane thought straining to be heard. He is close to me. When I close my eyes, and my dreams roam unrestrained. We are together and I love him and he loves me. And then I wake.
The coffee is cold.
In the sweltering heat, sydney has been threatening to rain for days, but no rain, now all the clouds have disappeared too, leaving only scorching horrible heat and the only thought in my mind is
I wish it would rain down on me now
I used to write poetry because I was passionate and turmoiled and a little crazy and sometimes crying and in love and in lust and in desire and in temptation and in remorse and in regret and now I write poetry because
Poetry
We never knew how much time we would have together, years have passed and we still do not know, and so we try to hold on as firmly as we can, but even as we do so
time slips through our fingers
It is nearing 6:30 pm, I stepped off the bus and slapbang into the middle of a heatwave. I had to take my time walking home, even stopping to rest it is that hot. The sun beating onto my arms, glistening drops starting to form, my body temperature soaring, and if this is what it means to be in Sydney in January, all I can say is:
Roll on my birthday month April pretty please
Everything is calm and the world is peace and I am content for today and may the feeling last for as long as it can last.
On the bus and not alone all the seats are taken except one beside me until someone takes a seat and larger than me and the size of the seat and arms side by side touching skin upon skin naked flesh and I can feel a layer of perspiration form between where our arms are joined and I am like please
No!
Be brave
My first day back to work and on the bus and so many long-sleeved shirts and long pants and ties, and I am in my favorite designer skirt and new top I bought with my long service voucher and heels and perfume and soft skin and hair in place and suddenly it pops into my head
it is wonderful being a woman
I am at peace with the world
I am at peace with me
I am at peace
Thank you for my beating heart
Thank you for my life
Thank you
If this my last night shall be
Let me live it
Joyfully
Spare one last night to breathe in
All the pure goodness
Surrounding me
I have lived, I have loved
I have fought
I am
Grant one last wish of mine I plead
That my written words should be
My testimony
And if I should not make it through the night
Know that I am at peace, I am at rest
There are no words left in me
Selah
Poems and Petals 