A woman interrupts a man reading a book on a park bench.
Woman: "Excuse me Sir! But I think you have my heart."
Man: "Oh, is it the one with a lovely magenta hue?"
Woman: "Well, it has lacerations, I'm sure that's memorable."
Man: "Oh! The one with the beautiful marks."
Woman: "Perhaps I have the wrong man."
Man: "No, it's right here."
Woman: "Thank you for keeping it safe."
Man: "No worries, I saw it lying in the cold."
--
Woman: "It's so warm and spirited now."
--
Man: "I hope it's okay, what I did."
Woman: "It is, you know what [she pauses] you may keep it."
Man: "That would bring me great joy."
Woman: "I found a
A woman tears as a man smugly checkmates. Her tears gather, and she drowns in her loss. The man moves on to another match. This woman calmly accepts. Their game is slow and steady. The players calculatedly take breaks to attend to other matches, and occasionally return to their game. Their board gathers dust and finally, nature takes its course and one by one the wind steals a piece until nothing's left - a lowly draw.
Seeing you from afar, from the safety of my home planet,
I felt this urge, this need,
to explore you.
I would steal nights, just to see you.
To watch you shimmer, watch you move,
watch you sparkle.
---
I wasn't patient, I should have waited,
until I was better educated,
better experienced.
But I took off - shuttled and launched,
blasting off and away,
just to say hi.
---
I stared into your black holes - I got lost in your galaxies,
I felt sucked in,
and captured.
Awe-inspired,
and in love,
with you.
---
I learned, you were not capable of love, of warmth,
other than bursts,
of dying stars.
You were colder than I expected,
and so I f
You are a forest fire - you are hot, dangerous, and contagious. And I am a curious wide-eyed doe who was awed by a lonely ember that f l e w from a dying campfire which grew rapidly, exponentially into a large forest fire and now I'm running away, afraid to fall into the fire - afraid to be consumed by it; afraid to be consumed, by you.
I read your bones after the firestorm.
The silence suits us, the smell consumes us.
Our bodies have been savaged by the flames: eaten.
Blackened by the fierce fire. Ambers still left,
Dancing in our eaten flesh - flickering like incandescents.
We've been entirely devoured, and yet - no regrets.
By our own devices, a fire we both started.
At a café, a woman catches a glance with a handsome man wearing a black fascist looking coat.
She smiles,
"I bet you think you're crazy with your
collection of Japanese horror films, and
snuff films. But what you don't know, is that
I'm crazier - with my necessary need to rip apart
every heart that falls at my feet. I don't
poison. And no, I don't moonlight
as a serial killer. I'm worse. I'm your worst
nightmare. You look at me and all you see are
black patent leather boots and a similar coa
Your pale skin and blue eyes make me melt.
Your thin limbs always warm me;
So beautiful and inspiring.
But underneath them, you remain cold.
You tell me it's fleeting, "This will not last."
I know that, but when I'm with you,
I never feel that.
Your room, always dark.
Your sheets, always white.
Your collections, always dead:
Skulls, skeletons, mounts, and furs.
You tell me this will not last.
I never believed you,
But you said,
"It's the way life is."
Your hair, always shimmering black.
With a blue tint, I never can get over that.
Your lingerie, clean whit