From my iPhone to its charger

After a draining day of emails and phone calls,
connecting with you never fails to recharge me.
Sometimes, I feel like I couldn’t survive
more than 24 hours without you.

Most people only care about what I look like
or who I can connect them with,
but you always focus on what’s inside of me.
I’ve never felt more in sync with anyone.

I’ve tried being with others before,
but they just weren’t compatible –
not from the same generation.
You, though.
You struck me like lightning.

From my teakettle to the stove

I’ll admit I was a little cold at first.

You see, I’d been with a couple of T-bags,
and after I was dumped, things just felt so empty.
I wasn’t sure if anyone would ever fill me up again.

But I swear, sparks flew when we met,
and it wasn’t long before I warmed up to you.
The red hot feelings you gave me
were simply so much more than merely electric.

It’s clear now that things are getting steamy.
There’s something bubbling up from deep inside of me,
making me want to tell the world what’s transpiring.

And I hope you won’t mind if I pour my heart out,
but I feel like we were made for each other.

a quiet moment

good evening.

His deep, gentle voice emerges in solitude from the shadows of her cramped dormitory room. In the distance of her light slumber she had sensed his presence, first knocking gently on the bedroom door; then after a silent moment, entering and taking a seated position on the floor, arm perched upon the bed for support. Chin upon elbow he came to rest, eyes gazing upon her soft, familiar features.

you smell like smoke,” she murmured. Her eyes remained gently closed as she imbibed his presence. A faint hint of gin lay restless on his breath.

He drew closer without a word.  

Though another soul might have divined accusation, he knew better. The smell of cigars brought her back to an idyllic childhood, when her father would return home from an evening smoke and embrace her in his arms. She cherished those memories.

From nearby streetlamps emanated a parsimonious, yellow light, which filtered through the swaying branches of stoic trees and cast long, playful shadows about the room. She opened her eyes slowly – one at a time – and smiled.

have fun tonight?

yes.

it’s cold out.

yes, it is. did I wake you?

nearly. i wasn’t quite asleep yet.

The two lovers exchanged whispers as though they risked waking the sun.

i brought you something.

He reached into his weathered pea coat and produced a small object, wrapped in crinkled newspaper.  Unfolding the paper gently, he revealed a delicate, glass dolphin figurine, which he placed gingerly on the bed beside her.

i love dolphins,” she barely mouthed her exclamation as she smiled, yawned, and closed her eyes, snuggling once more into the pink cotton comforter.

i know.