after awhile

all wallowed through

misery has a break

and what comes through?

A glimpse of happiness

A show of cheer

and yet i seek the solitude of sorrow

because i know it will stay

cloaking me in its gloom

yet happiness will flee

and will not say when and where it will come again.


Fleeting Flirtation

 There is an art:

which each of us create

anew with each encounter,

whatever day.


…safely exhilarating…

…securely coy…

…furtive, fleeting, taboo…

though willingly innate.


silent observers swear by it:

the glance, the presence, the immense haughtiness.

innocent…yet charged with minute passion.


a glance met…

as a mask slides upon each player’s face:

a mute drama begins.


around each involvee a force field emerges:

actions of the other magnified,

leaving all else oblivious.


engaged in this duel of strangers two,

interest is feigned upon all else but the other,

so daringly they counter each other’s broach of space.


The untouched brush:


so close, so close…

to reach out and trace a finger upon….


yet moment by moment intimacy,

cannot purely connect them.


so there one and one,

stay each unknown:


to continue their glance

to continue their silent dance…