Super Melodramatic Romanticness, Part 1

Our love is the title...

We sometimes wade in ankle-deep water,

We sometimes drown atop towering stilts.

We swim in this virginal, wondrous whirlpool,

Wanting more—sextant set to perfect degrees.

Wicked wonder gets wetter and wetter,

And we don’t know any better. Whether

To sleep on quilts of qualm, or to Love on

Different beds. Sea of sheets untucked, to rest.

We search for everything, nothing at all,

Spin-waving, head bursting with lullabies

Of old. New songs fill our souls. We hold hands.

Welcome aboard. Hold on to the unknown.

A map to play by ear, nothing to fear now.

Our compass points North, wherever that may be,

To set us free. Hold on tight now, to we.

And we’re still holding hands…

~Char

One Little Turtle

One Little Turtle

(on its back)

by Char

Ellipses of sand beneath my feet

Replace my childhood memories.

As I dance between the "ought" and "is"...

The "buts" and "ifs"... A kiss, no kiss.

One little turtle, all feet in the air, all despair.

With my eyes open to the world, I am blind.

The eye of the storm,

and goodnight...

It's an epic, inconceivable, fail;

And, unlike you, it's all mine.