Fear

When confronted by your worst nightmare the choises are few. Fight or flight. We hope to find the strength to stand against our fears but sometimes, despite ourselves, we run. What if the nightmare gives chase, where can we hide then?

JT

You will travel far my little JT. We will never never leave you even in the face of our death. You will make my strength your own. You will see my life through your eyes as your life will be seen through mine. The father becomes the sone, the son the father

Words

The written word is all that stands between memory and oblivion. Without words as our anchors, we are cast adrift, neither teaching nor learning. They are windows of the past, mirrors of the present and prisms reflecting all possible futures. Words are light houses erected in the dark sees of time.

What do you do when you realize the best thing that could ever happen to you, has already happened?

Be Near Me

You who demolish me, you whom I love, be near me. Remain near me when evening, drunk on the blood of the skies, becomes night, in its one hand a perfumed balm, in the other a sword sheathed in the diamond of stars. Be near me when night laments or sings, or when it begins to dance, its steel-blue anklets ringing with grief. Be here when longings, long submerged in the heart's waters, resurface and when everyone begins to look: Where is the assassin? In whose sleeve is hidden the redeeming knife? And when wine, as it is poured, is the sobbing of children whom nothing will console - when nothing holds, when nothing is: at that dark hour when night mourns, be near me, my destroyer, my lover, be near me.

Wet

Languidly parting the moist curtain. he slides into the smooth vessel. the color of fire pink velvet. his large hands securely wielding the creamy white handles, firmly manipulating them until just a trickle of foamy liquid flows forth. She faces him, their eyes, reflecting pools of love, lock on each other. embracing, both, with body and soul, they melt together in the steamy atmosphere. memories flood as her neck arches and wet kisses cover her throat. teasing one another in the aquamarine Indian ocean. causing rough ripples to fan out across the water of a swimming pool as they played. discovering new things as a soft summer rain, like the sound of a tinkling xylophone, soaked them. Aromas of citrus, colognes and faintly, the sea drift and swirl around them. skin drenched, rivulets of salty sweat stream between them. sauna heat builds as temperatures rise. flesh moves with synchronized, frantic fluidity. a torrential river violently rushes into a cascading waterfall. drowning in a frenzied whirlpool, gasping for air, silent screams. then the peace of a tranquil, crystal clear lake prevails and the relaxation of a hot spraying shower returns, as she lovingly shampoos his hair

Rapture

There is a place for us that no one else can enter. It is a place that holds no secrets, only beauty, peace, understanding. A place that we come to, thinking we are one, only to have our souls fused together for a moment. And in that moment, I know you; every pore, every pulse, every thought, every fear. And I love you more. I feel myself laid bare before you, and I feel content . . . joyous that you are with me, loving me in my nakedness.