the window was hers
sill sitting
retinal camera clicking
praying for lightning
to a god
they had recently
come to know
it all changes
she cleans her lens
with the softest circles
now focused on his eyes
time passes and
lovers forget
he looks outside
the street below
newly washed
summer rain reflecting
prismatic fractures
storefronts
yellow cabs
hearts
perched so high above
his thumb sweeps
the stray lock of sorrow
from her cheek
i hear prague
is lovely
and she
laughs
This entry was posted on July 10, 2012 at 4:26 pm and is filed under short story, Writing and Poetry with tags art, baseball, bigfoot, birthdays, cake, cannibals, christianity, criminal activity, elvis, explosions, fire, gangster, god, harold camping, homecoming, jersey shore, liquor, love, miracles, music, new jersey, pagan, parks, partical physics, patriotism, philosophy, poetry, Prague, red sox, religion, sasquatch, sex, short story, suspense, sweet memories, thug, trains, travel, wombats, writing, yeti. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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all of it 
July 25, 2012 at 8:02 pm
I’m really enjoying the design and layout of your blog. It’s a
very easy on the eyes which makes it much more pleasant for me to come here and visit more often.
Did you hire out a designer to create your theme?
Outstanding work!
July 25, 2012 at 9:53 pm
no, it is a stock Word Press theme. So glad i do not hurt your eyes.