Tea Lights and Fireflies

Tea lights and fireflies, dancing around me. Warm grass and darkness, stars and moonlight. Lace nightgowns, silk pajamas, tea and the Milky Way. Small butterflies and glass terrariums, hanging from the trees. Fabric walls billowing softly, and fountains cast wavy lightshows and white noise. Bare feet and loose hair, cushions with tassels on the corners. Low tables with pale red tablecloths, teapots and sugar bowls. Dance with me, twirl with me. We are young, we are new and fresh but vintage and fun. Points of light and globes of color, swirling, twirling, like fairy dust motes in the sunlight. The world is ours, and we can giggle over our delicate teacups and whisper about top hats and monocles. Cream, gold, and rose are my favorite colors, because they are soft and delicate. Let’s stay here, at this tea party, until sunrise paints the sky with those soft and delicate colors. Let’s stay innocent and youthful, not just until sunrise, but for the rest of our lives. Let’s be gentle, and sweet, and old fashioned in the youngest way. Your eyes never leave mine, and they tell me that you love me. Tea lights and fireflies, dancing around us. 

9:11 At Night

It's 9:11 at night,
on a hot August day,
and I hope and I wait
for you to take me away.

It's 9:11 at night,
and I wish you would stay,
but it's a warm day in summer
and you have moved away.

I should have told you,
Told you what you are.
I should have kept you,
not let you go far.

I wish you were here,
I wish you had stayed,
but it's 9:11 at night,
on a hot August day.

Speed and Sound

Narrow your eyes and smile: push the gas down and open the throttle. So many roads, laced with green and blue stripes. Everything straight and narrow, but the curves and the turns cannot stop moving on. High heels and motorcycle boots, dancing in fast gyrations around each other. If you move, I will move to make a counterstrike. You cannot outrun, outride, or outdrive what is not there. Black is standard: white is secondary. Water forms and falls, and we will never stop racing down the fastest roads. Cohesive thought is not necessary, and you don’t have to make sense over 90 mph. Swing through the overpass, I’ll follow from ahead. Nightlife is restrictive, and so are roads, so never think again until there are no roads to chase down and slay. Pass me by, and we’ll play together one of the most dangerous games I can think up on the spot. Exhaust heats our blood, boils our veins and makes us feel electric and alive, tight leather and loose hair make a good combination. Casual and suave, fast and loud, who cares? Give yourself a name, and sell it to the first person who asks. Live fast, for as long as you can keep up. Live slow, as long as you don’t fall behind. Live free, but remember: the road is life, and what goes past roads lives even longer. 

Description of a Leaf

I'm sorry.
I should post more.
Summer was too crazy, and so hot that all my creative juices dried up.
So here is something I wrote for my last year's Natural Science class.
They asked for a description of a leaf, and I chose a pecan stalk.

A gentle green curve, a tapering point, a few graceful lines. Save for the foremost, each has its partner, just on the other side of the road. Like seven houses in a cul-de-sac, they are arranged facing each other, bowing and dipping and swaying in time to the wild, gypsy music of the wind. The stem that they all grow from is flat, green at heart, and dressed in a thin slip of brown or purple. Smooth and dark on the top, each leaf is veined with delicate roads that follow the same curve, then fade away. Such a simple twig, with such simple leaves. Nothing but Autumn’s cold weather will make it lose its elegance, and the dignity with which it carries itself.