Lightning Bug

When the dark storm clouds roll
on the far waters of the night
Ocean waves
And the gulls flee
Overhead - white - to left and right

Streaming crashes on the iron sands
Deep winds from the other land
Rush on to the shore where I stand.

The hot rain pours down
Like a torrent from the far
Side of the horizon,
Where death stands, and life, and
Possibility for you and for me.
But not here.

The hot, damp night heat
Covers us when the storm
Sounds ominously far off
And we know its due

The sudden rush will
Break us - yet still I
Wait and breath - heart deep.
Looking into you. I see you look too.

In the night the lightning bug
Flashes and glimmers - a pearl
Caught in the light between
The seams, seeping from the other
Side of reality , where the hope
Of love may lie.

It gleams and flies - hovering
The memory of a ghost discovering
Love
And torrents of rain wash
Down.

In the storm of lost reality
Drowns the hope -
In the caught
Horizon between what is and
What could be
Between us - you and me.

It Could Be Worse

After deciding today that I am, actually, The Ugliest Person On Earth (which means that I judge beauty relatively, and believe that there is actually an ugliest person on earth? Very BAD), I decided an emergency photo shoot was in order. Some relaxed posing under the warm and lovely light of the bathroom bulbs persuaded me that my awkwardness has a sort of ghoulish charm about it.

I suppose I'd be a good match for someone of a similarly awkward countenance. If only Alan Rickman were in an identical state of mind...

Note to self, though: don't decipher hieroglyphs on first dates. Not attractive while doing so.