Her power is her pretty
The time she takes to do her hair
the smile she gives, head tilt, bat eyelash stare
male gaze attire
floral skirt, high heels
demure
not too wild
her side glance and you hand over your wallet
His power is his money
pays for dinner, five star
Michelin style
oysters rockerfeller, octopus
order his entrée be sure to share and skip dessert
bottle of Cristal flash the bling when the guests arrive
his confidence at its high
drives you wild
Her power of pretty
is from
the inside
of course he sees
considers it sexy
natural glow of the sun on the face til the hair parts and shows her age
his power of money
built from generational wealth
flows scarce
as time passes
loss of excitement
the fresh ride stale
no need to impress
his needs have been met
complaints of funds spent
flowers from stop and shop for special occasion is all you’re going to get
Tag: modern dating
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Pout
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Date delema
Immediately you defined me
Characterized my existence
Put me in a category
For your sexual fantasy
goth, no
emo, club kid,
eh
oh rocker chick
that’s it
how we clashed
genres of rock
a generation apart
the dead,
the grunge, the soul,
and the funk
false narrative
it wasn’t enough
mistook the attention for love
common mistake
a play thing, a toy
you, my only joy
not
the narrative you desire
to tell others
how I suffocate
didn’t give space
when we both know
you’re the one
who needs to save face
from your family and friends
tell them I left
again
when literally
you pushed me away in the end. -
Blood Moon
Sunday the tears shed
I thought they disappeared
how much weight six months carried
within the last year
5,360 minutes
and that’s only the morning calls
not to mention the texting, the vacation, dinners out, hiking and three times skating…
my new best friend
dropped it hot
quick tempered
cords cut
cutting cords
this moon is meant for
I hear
place the water by the window
let go of what’s holding me back
make sense of all those tears
Ive managed not to call
when my stomach flutters
and my heart clasps tight
Your words
empty words you once said
of future, the home we could share
couldn’t be quicker,
How you pushed away
made it much easier
I smile
how I haven’t called out
to reach you,
ease the clarity of crazy
you call me.
You’re missing out. -
Air of Possibilities
How do we do next
Dating replaced
Foodie aside
a skate
at the rink
a hike in the woods
was the extent of our taste;
an app
a cocktail a meal
til the conversation ran dry
How do we do next
dating replaced
Hold my hand
head high
fill self interest
ofc
poetry, curling, bowling
yes of all things curling
movies and rock bands
the woods
back to my tree hugging ways
how do we do next
dating replaced
the spring sheds the cocoon
the butterfly emerges
the snow melts on the ground
wings spread
I fly
primary colors
full force ahead.
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Cold Moon
The Thaw
Seat belt
buckle up
i didn’t know it would be a bumpy ride
Lap the air
overcast
smell of those tall pines
chocolate melatonin
head wrap
children screach
grab the barf bag
rest the eyes
laughing laughing laughing
mongolian buffet
red wine
naps
mid day snacks
relax
red eye back
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Acceptance my Love
Screenshot
I’m sure our love was meant for another
Our brief yet brilliant
Fling
filled the air we breathed
in deep
butterfly.
you didn’t even snore. I slept in your bed like this cat on my leg
cozy and warm I didn’t know
I could have another home
bear.
the way you looked at me
reflected a desire to last forever
yet life had other plans
aborted our love
quickly, cut cords
harshly, my memories remain fondly
my love.
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Wrap it Up
Month one
It’s a rush
A love bomb
Four digit security
to your heart your home your 6ft tall manly hood
Month two
miles away the heart grows fonder
ears ring
brag to friends
the love grows stronger
Bonnie Raitt and sisterhood
Month three
is this the demise
dinner with friends goes awry
colds and coughs arise
dates cancelled
no notice
disappointment seeps
Month four
creeps in with out notice
holiday season upon us
family disguise
skating glee
the sick old month leaps
Month five
full holiday season
rush rush rush
front the perfect bf
family family family
dinners for two
morning walks pushed aside
Month six
three Saturdays without
a mom of kids would notice
a miss of a partner
left unheard
communicate relate recenter
3000 miles away
heart the escape
I’ll go
Month seven
what even is that
it is no longer
of needs not met
in time and way how spent
feelings voiced
to rage and gaslit
bait
to end to end to end
a romance that’s fade
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Buck Moon
Is love supposed to be
Easy and Joyful
Slipping in like a
breeze
Or awkward and uncomfortable
Habits formed
Single life lead
Is love supposed To Be
Quiet sunshine
Moments of Silence
Breath.
Or loud rumbling sideways thunder
Noisy thoughts in my cluttering head
dread
The middle of the night wake up
Telling me to fear
The unknown man
Only one month ago
Huh, One month!
A dream I hope
Not to wake up
Desired safe passion grounded yet
afloat
Mer Prose 