You Are Beautiful...

To The Lady on the Train,
 

When I look at you, the affect that you have on me is more than just a visual response... I see the curve of your eye, the round of your cheek, the line of your jaw from your ear to your chin.. I see the curls of your hair, framing your face... the arch of your eyebrow... the tones and colours of your skin.. the wondrous shape of your lips, in a hint of a smile.. 

 

The line of your graceful neck, your ears just visible... and your shoulders so perfectly contradictory in their strength and frailness... 

 

Oh, I see you and I am absolutely struck dumb by your beauty... pure and absolute beauty - but this is not what knocks me completely... it is your eyes, your gaze... it is being able to see you through those windows - into a world that I sometimes mis-read - but sometimes give you away when you most want to hide... your eyes that I fall into, every time - even when I look at a picture...

 

I fall into your gaze and I want to wander there forever. I see worlds that could not exist anywhere else.. I see paradoxes and harmonies.. I see a woman so strong that she needs nothing but her own will. I see a woman that sometimes just wants to be held and shielded from the world. I see the most joy and the deepest sorrow... I see worry and I see playfulness... here there is love and there is bitter anger... there is lightness and there is a dark flash... these and so much more are in your eyes... sometimes in turn, and miraculously sometimes existing in the very same moment...

 

A man could spend a lifetime in your eyes... his hand to your cheek... your face close... the scent of your skin and hair filling his senses... A man could spend a lifetime right here, and want for nothing else - and never come close to exploring all that there is of you... to be with you is to battle and to love, to be at ease and to be aware, to seek and to hide and to seek, to be utterly lost and to be completely found... 

 

And any man who is given this privilege by you, to be held in your gaze.. any man that finds himself there and knows what he has found is truly blessed.. but if he does not know what he has been given, is somehow blind, then he is much the poorer...

 

Oh, I know what I have found in you... and I am the luckiest man because of it... and knowing it, just takes my breath away every time I look at you
 
The Man in the Station

A moment...

Angel,

 

With the official start of Autumn the weather changed as if on queue. Suddenly, the days are shorter, colder, and rainier - the sun does not arc as high, leaving even mid-day shadow stretched before us.

 

Fall has come and in the grit of this city there are signs of the coming winter that cannot be ignored. In our early weekday morning, those of us who shuffle to meet the downtown streetcar mingled with the remaining night time underworld dwellers, we are all stopped and faces turned to the sky. All of us held frozen in a shared moment to follow the fast flight and call of low flying geese. 

 

There is something unearthly, eerie, and primal in their haunting call and we cannot help but feel the sudden urge that we must now prepare for the winter that will come. We all feel the shared stirring - our signal to hurry and to slow down. The message to take advantage of what warmth and light we have now must be used to full advantage for it will not last.. 

 

A moment we have all stopped but with their passing so passes the memory of this shared experience. As the honking fades we all turn back to our private drudgery - each to our own little worlds.

 

And I wait for the bright lights of the coming streetcar.

 

Just me.

 

A Time...

To The Lady on the Train,

I have traced the lines of you - I have followed all of the angles and curves that are your shape.

I have fallen through the constellations of the freckles on your skin, been held aloft by the tumble and fall of your curls and been drawn in my the feel of the palm of your hand on the back of my neck.

I remember the soft of your cheek on the back of my hand and my forehead pressed to the small of your back.

I remember the sound of your sigh across white sheets and the way your body tensed and relaxed at the same time - a turning toward me and a tender yet hungry kiss.

I remember wet hair, crossed legs and coffee - soft brown eyes and body lotion. I remember bending to kiss the inside of a knee, a falling back to welcome me - beackoning me - to explore you one more time.

I remember your whisper in my ear and our fingers entwined - pinned to earth and soaring.

I remember the gravity of you and the way to fill a room and the way light changes.

You are the center. You carry my heart.

The Man in the Station

P.S.

I love you more. 

A Goddess...

Angel,

You are strong and beautiful. 

You are truly a Goddess..

Just me

For you...