slurping chai from a saucer
like a kitten
(and the blushing)
falling in
to your gravity
meandering through
the conversation
the day
your journal
(this still leaves me smiling)
me, drawn to the texture
of your opinions
and passions
(and then the kissing)
![creation haiku [ wailing chaos]](https://kymberleedellaluce.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/1445487339077.jpg)
Him: “Is there a reason why they gave you this car? They didn’t have a small, economical model?” Me: “I chose this one. I like power and speed.” Him: “Oh.” Me: (dropping him off at the park and ride) “Which one is yours?” Him: “The blue sensible one over there.” [insert more conversation with us…
I’m at the Frye, waitig in the cold sun for J. He’s stuck in traffic. I don’t mind the wait. It’s lovely to let the sun caress my cheek. (A cheek that has known many tears lately.) The floating musical island is playing behind me. The water of the fountains flows, adding it’s own notes…
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
I saw Tom Shadyac’s film I AM last night. As the director of films like “Ace Ventura” and “Bruce Almighty”, he’s a man who had “the dream”–the houses, the cars, the private jet and, after an accident, realized that those things are not really what make a person happy. He set out on a quest…