The Steamy Haze of Self-Doubt, Volume 2- On Matters of the Heart
What is this warmth in my chest that burns hotter than a scalding hot cappuccino on a winter night? New and strange yet so familiar-- ah, yes, I've felt this before. It's the feeling of soft skin against my cheek, the intoxicating scent of floral lotion, the gentle slide of mocha strands between my fingers, lips like a tablespoon of honey-- overpowering and exotic.
And the goddess still smiles upon her broken soldier! Against all odds-- or all expectations, rather, it's as though I never dreamed it at all...
But only a foolish man looks so far ahead he trips over the trash can at his feet, or forgets that he was chained to the wall behind him-- chains hang on me that it's too late to be free of now. Kittens always bat at what you drag around before them-- and this one makes a pretty nasty jingling noise. It's time. Now I figure out how to break the news...
It also seems to be the time, of late, to spin confessions of the deepest sort on a mildly public forum. Well, my voice is too weary from underuse to declare it so loudly yet-- but for now I am content with a whisper, a melodiously quiet reminder that all of me is not lost. There is still light in these old eyes-- and even a place with no sun can shine.
And the goddess still smiles upon her broken soldier! Against all odds-- or all expectations, rather, it's as though I never dreamed it at all...
But only a foolish man looks so far ahead he trips over the trash can at his feet, or forgets that he was chained to the wall behind him-- chains hang on me that it's too late to be free of now. Kittens always bat at what you drag around before them-- and this one makes a pretty nasty jingling noise. It's time. Now I figure out how to break the news...
It also seems to be the time, of late, to spin confessions of the deepest sort on a mildly public forum. Well, my voice is too weary from underuse to declare it so loudly yet-- but for now I am content with a whisper, a melodiously quiet reminder that all of me is not lost. There is still light in these old eyes-- and even a place with no sun can shine.