1959

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When he called me “love”, we time travelled across horizons and stopped in 1959.

And there we were, at a drive in where the movie was not the only thing that entertained us!

As I tried to brush away the popcorn crumbs that decked the floors of his 57’ Hudson Hornet, I asked him.

What do you think is the color of Jan’s eyes?

Black and white movies always gave us the freedom to paint the pictures any color we wanted.

“Love, they’d never be as blue as yours”, he whispered as we watched Pillowtalk for the 12th time.

I was called “Love”, not “bae”, nor  “boo”, and he’d remind me every day.

His “love” because we belonged to a time that was, to a time we wished to live.

The drive ins and ice cream parlours,

The time of sock hops and malt shops,

Where we imagined dancing close and driving far,

Sneaking out and falling…

In trouble, ‘cause Daddy caught him throwing pebbles at my window,

In my arms, cause I’ve always been as warm as a nightlamp,

In love and in other such fantasies.

Precious Girl

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Have you seen her eyes?

Chiseled from saphire, blue.

Have you seen them glow, even at love untrue?

Have you seen her lips?

Born of roses, red.

Have you seen them blossom in monochrome autumns we dread?

Precious eyes of saphire blue,

They could sit on an emperor’s crown,

But have these eyes ever cried, have they ever drowned?

Lips so royal, of scarlet sin,

Its beauty ages old,

But have they ever spoke of love,

Have they calmed a soul?

Precious girl, what are you made of,

Or what is made of you?

Rubies and roses, silver and gold.

Is that all you’ll ever know?

Or love and kindness,

Courage and politeness,

Will there be ever more?

 

 

 

Finding love is a lot like looking for the perfect dress

Sometimes finding true love is a lot like finding the perfect prom dress.When you find the right one you will stop in your tracks and you will see it for what it really is.
At first you move from one boutique to another trying on different dresses. 

So many different colours to choose from, and so many different styles.
Some make you look cute, some make you look hot. 
Some may have looked so right when displayed on the mannequins but when you try it on your self, you realise it isn’t the right one. 
Then there’s that one which looks perfect from afar, with all its sequins and rhinestones. You can almost see a halo shining around it calling your name, like it is made for you but, when you try it on you discover how shabbily it was tailored. The sequins and rhinestones begin tugging at your skin and it gives you a rash. It makes you look beautiful but it hurts you with every step you take.
You take it off, you’re really disappointed but you know what matters more. 
So now you stop looking, you still have a few weeks to go till prom and you still have no dress. You’re thinking you probably shouldn’t go now, cause all your friends will have the perfect dress and here you are still searching for the right one. 
But just before you’re about to give up you see this dress in a bottle green shade. It may never have been your favourite colour nor was it the style you wanted but something, just something drew you to it. And when you tried it you knew for sure this was the last dress you would try.
You didn’t want to waste any time looking for another lest someone else got it , because this one was the only piece of it’s kind. 
I remember what I felt when I found my dress, it was bottle green, off shoulders and made of raw silk. It didn’t need any sequins or rhinestones, it had its own little shine. 
It just hung there, ever so humble yet oceans apart from the rest. It made me feel beautiful with all my flaws and jagged edges. 
I also remember what I felt like when love came knocking. I stopped in my tracks and saw him for what he really was. Without the shiny stuff, pure and selfless. Like the perfect piece of fabric wrapping my soul and making my heart full. 
True love is never superficial like cheap satin and sequins, mine was rich raw silk and an old bottle green. 

Plain Old Love

So when love arrived, there weren’t any sparks or the feeling of despair.

No sting of bloody cigarette marks, no dearth of loving care.

It wasn’t a rollercoaster or something that bothered her at night, like a gentle breeze, he helped her calm her mind.

The stars didn’t seem to dance, nor did the sun shine any brighter.

Unlike the stories and the songs, he wasn’t a ferocious fighter.

This time, love didn’t scream into her mind but eased into her soul. He loved her slow but gripped her hard and kept her heart from the cold.

Sometimes…

When love arrives,

It’s not always fairytales and magic carpet rides,

But when it does, when this love arrives.

Embrace it like the ocean tides, 

Let it flow, break down your wall.

This time love will be worth the fall.

Temptations in the Ballroom

He didn’t know what shone brighter, her eyes 

Or the diamond studded wreath adorning her neck.

He didn’t know if he was in love with her mind,

Or the silhouette of her curves.

She was a storm, yet his saving grace. He was the runner, she was the winning race.

Pause. Breathe.

Stop running in your mind, listen to the waltz playing behind.

She’s looking at you.

Gazing. Drowning her thoughts in another bottle of wine.

Beware.

 Take a step back, she’s reading your mind.

Now he went on, he held her. Danced just like he loved her.Firm yet passionate. 

While he tried not to fall for the temptress in those angel eyes.

They swayed in the night as they rose over the crowd, the music and to the cosmos.

Leaving the cacophony below, they drifted above…

As he wondered,

“Is it possible to lust the one you love?”

Two little pools of honey

Out of the blue,

Unanticipating and unforseen,

I fell for you,

And I never finished falling.

Falling for, 

Your smile,

Your scars,

How you think you’re broken,

How you let your heart open,

To untold passions and secret dreams,

Midnight stories and silent screams.

Oh and how can I forget?

The way I fell in love with your eyes,

Honey hazel eyes.

Two little pools of honey,

Cradling in them an entire universe.

The stars in them formed constellations,

As to show me a picture.

A picture only my eyes could see,

Telling me stories of adventure and love,

Celestial beings and creatures above.

Which is why I want to stay,

To protect and be protected.

For when I studied your broken pieces they reminded me of mine,

As I realized the edges of my broken soul fit yours.

So honey hazel eyes,

Two little pools of honey,

Let me in that universe, 

Don’t keep it buried.