Soaring into the Regions of Romance

 I wish that the words came as easily to me as they used to. Once before in a time long ago I was able to scribble scraps of romantic verse like it was my only purpose in life. Now though, these words are hard to configure. I cannot say that there is a direct correlation between my level of affection and my ability to construct rhythmic tones of passion. I know this because I feel much more for you now than what I once felt back when our only worry was rushing to finish lusting so that we may turn in a midnight assignment on time. 

Back in my youthful days, in both mind and spirit, I was able to fabricate the verses that would both make your heart flutter and your legs tremble. But now i have no clue where this talent has gone. I don't know if I can blame my lack of articulation to the fact that I work every ounce of sweat from my body during the week and spend the weekends sleeping off my exhaustion. Anytime between then I am thinking of you, and you only, hoping that you think of me as I think of you. 

I wish to one day settle down in a safe cozy place that we can be free from the nagging of the outside world. In this place, and this place only, we may sore into the regions of romance. I want to experience this with you, I can think of no other to share such an experience with. I have expressed this unknown devotion to you, but i am afraid that my devotion to you is not mirrored by yours to me. For now, I will accept this fact and make peace with it. I will patiently wait for your reciprocation of my affection. For when that day arrives, I will be kneeling in the center of the universe singing the great songs of commitment. 

I Met a Girl

I met a girl today.

Walking out in the town, heading to the coffee shop I spotted a five-dollar bill lying on the ground just under a sidewalk bench. I proceeded to walk across the street to retrieve the unclaimed treasure. There was not a car in sight, so I continued thinking that the coast was clear. Midway on my b-line to Abe Lincoln’s portrait I felt a tap on my right shoulder. The tap was very small and annoying, so I just waved it off, and headed for my cash prize. I took a few more steps, and there it was again, an annoying tapping on my shoulder. I glanced over to see who was trying to ruin my morning when I spotted the sweetest face. For a second there I actually forgot about the money lying on the ground.

I was torn to pieces trying to decide what to do in this tricky situation. I could either acknowledge this beautiful woman in front of me, or become five bucks richer. While at cahoots with myself, I noticed that the woman began to do strange movements in front of me. It seemed like she was apart of a large game of charades, I just didn’t notice the other participants. I began to question the young woman. I ask her if she was okay, or if she needed help with anything. I guess I had the thought that I was being rude, so I even introduced myself and asked for her name, but she still played the charade game like a champ.

After about a minute of utter confusion she began to lead me back on my journey towards wealth and happiness. She kept gesturing different things, holding up five fingers and then rubbing her fingertips together. I just couldn’t get the hint. I asked her if she wanted five dollars, and with all kinds of excitement she nodded yes, like I had finally got her.

Well this is just perfect. I find five bucks with my name on it and some psycho woman wants it. I would have no choice but to give it to her because she wouldn’t leave me alone until I actually did. I tried to tell her that I didn’t have any cash on me. I even offered to buy her food with my credit card, though she didn’t look at all like a street beggar. She denied all of my false claims. She continued to lead me to the crumbled up piece of currency until I finally picked it up.

She began clapping like a mother would at her child’s first steps, and then stood there with her hand out. Only because I just could not go another second watching this woman ransack my bubble, I gave her the cash.

I was confused out of all get out at her response. “Phew, thanks. That took forever.”

Are you freaking kidding me! The silent psycho beauty speaks! What the fudge nuggets??

I proceeded, “Wait one gosh darn minute lady! You can talk?”

With the most girlish reply, “Yep!”

“So, what was this whole act you just did? I mean was that really necessary?”

She giggled, “Yea, kind of. It’s apart of my pledge process. Make a stranger give you money without speaking to them.”

“Well, did you have to do it like that?”

“Not exactly. Most girls just do a strip tease at parties, but I thought I’d find a more creative way of completing the task.”

Pointing to the five-dollar bill, then to the ground, “Did you put that there?”

“No, it was actually a really big coincidence that I saw it there while trying to figure out how to do this thing. I waited here for like ten minutes for someone to walk by, and finally you came.”

“That’s ridiculous. Anything else you have to do?”

“Yep, make someone’s day full of sunshine and roses. Here ya go.”

She handed me the five bucks. 

Deeper than Skin – Beach Run (I)

He enjoyed the smell of an early summer morning; it was the refreshing scent of something new that always got him excited. Sweat dripped down his face as he passed the dunes for a third time. Jake never ran with a shirt, he thought that it took away from the reason he worked out in the first place, to get the perfect body.

Jake was already a chiseled spectacle. There was always an eye on his perfectly packed in muscle beneath his caramel skin. He wasn’t just a modern day Hercules; rather he was a mixture of every perfect statue and the paintings of every Italian artist who spent his days focusing of the beauty of God’s eye. Jake might have been the most beautiful man on the West Coast, but for him that wasn’t enough. Jake wanted to be the greatest sight to the most sophisticated eyes in all of the world.

It was almost insane the amount of attention he gave to himself. Jake struggled with the deepest levels of narcissism; he knew this, but didn’t have a problem with it. He even had a debate with himself once about the possibilities of getting a tattoo of his name across is his chest, to remind him that he is the number person in his life. He decided against it because he just didn’t want to have anything blocking the view of his perfect skin.

Jake usually ran early enough to miss out on the beach paparazzi, who tried with all their might to catch a clear glimpse of him, but for some reason never could. His run was never too early for the regular goddesses of Southern California; he loved this almost as much as he loved himself. It was another reason for him to run with his shirt off, just so he could watch the eyes of the next hottie stare into abdomen. For the longest time, this was so satisfying for young Jake, but now he longed for something slightly greater.

Once more Jake made his way around the dunes and spotted his next victim. He was excited for this one because she was more of sight than the others. This bronze toned beauty floated across the sand with long black hair flying back into the wind. He watched her eyes, anticipating the gradual “look-up and gaze.” She was now just a few strides away; his heart began pounding harder and harder from anticipation. Here it was, the big moment… and there she went.

Jake immediately stopped in his tracks. He was mortified and confused. Was there something wrong with him or her? It had to be something wrong with her, he thought. Jake ran back to try to figure out what went wrong.

“Hey, you know you might wanna look up sometimes, you never know when a pole might just pop up outta no where.”

“Is that right?”

“Yea. You haven’t looked up for a good two hundred yards.”

“I try to focus on running. If I look up I might get distracted.”

“Or you might just keep running along enjoying the scenery.”

“Worked for you, didn’t it?”

Jake stopped again.