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Written in the Dirt Posts

I sit and watch as she

I sit and watch

as she exhales clouds

of Turkish cigarette smoke

over Dior red lips.

 

I sit and watch

as she pulls up nylons

with embroidered welts

to suspender clips.

 

I sit and watch

as she ties her silk robe

with a smile for me wryly

at its fleeting use.

 

I sit and watch

as she opens the door

to a stranger invited

at an earlier seduction.

 

I sit and watch

as she moves to him

and lets foreign hands

explore her womanly body.

 

I sit and watch

as she turns to the wall

her breasts cupped firmly

legs moved apart.

 

I sit and watch

as she moans and reciprocates

while she’s held there

and used roughly.

 

I sit and watch

as she lays

prostrate on the bed

and her beau goes deeper.

 

I sit and watch

as her head turns

and looks into my eyes

and only mine.

Red and Black

The outline of her body

Displayed across the bed.

 

Like a blurred impressionist painting brought to life.

 

I’m a permitted voyeur

With un-admittable dreams that only she can soothe.

 

From the small of her back to the nape of her neck is smooth and warm like a sand dune.

 

In the presence of a woman.

I’m a man reduced to a boy.

 

Breathless by painted lips and catholic modesty.

 

Curled hair immaculate

Reaching down, over,

Over past perfumed neck and soft breast.

Round and ample

 

Stirring me, but: that face;

That unblemished Venus un-severe

I cannot compare.

 

Shining eyes half closed

In hushed repose, smokily

Watching me.

 

Every time I see her is like the first.

A discovery of a treasure thought lost.

 

Smiling at my breathlessness

She beckons me closer.

 

Consumed I approach trembling

This picture of beauty.

The mother of my child.

Liminal me.

As I close my eyes I see the writhing squirming impossible beasts in the darkness.

They appear aware of me but go unconcerned on their way in this singular forever.

Uncontrollable visions from countless worlds of skies and lands and machines.

Everything just for a split second enough to recognise but not make out.

Waking dreams of uncertain sanity under a microscope for each thought or part thereof.

Never close enough to be fully unobscured there’s a clarity so fragmented it distracts.

A modern and ancient view of everything that was and will be in an electric memory that isn’t mine.

Fear of death absorbed by an accepted geometry concealing chaos unstoppable.

Time became nothing, hours just imagined, traversable by thought.

Longer than forever in the blink of an eye.

Beings of fire and metal looking out over oceans of unexplainable patterns.

A collection of everything ever seen, thought, imagined, or forgotten.

A living and moving permanent giant of unknown rock holding this universal memory.

Everything is alive without exception, connection to everything else all the time.

All is possible, just look. Immolated feathery gods explaining uplifted relics.

A calmness takes place at the same time as a beautiful wall of light separates us.

Joined across something bigger than eternity inside the smallest part of a galaxy.

Impossible coincidences just obvious intentionally made bridges between two places.

Everywhere in every direction, a puzzle that solves itself by never ending.

I saw the start and end and everything inbetween of everything there was, is,  and will be, all at the same time.

I open my eyes and take back the illusion of control for the time being.

©2024 David Newton