Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Working with Love and Water

Ex. 1

Your kisses are like the waves.
Sometimes gentle and shy,
brushing lightly over sand
making these naked toes dance and curl with delight.

Othertimes, strong and daring
crashing passionly up the shore,
taking this wader by surprise and knocking her off her feet.

I wouldn't mind drowning in this sea.
Keep the waves coming.
I'll stay here all night.

Ex. 2
The day I realized that you were mine and I was yours, was on an afternoon spent secretly using your parent's pool.

You walked lazily in circles, chest deep, trailing me behind you on my floating yellow bed .We moved in slow motion, but spoke with eagerness about things like truth and morality and whether or not people are basically good or basically full of it..., all this intermitted with talk of Wolverine and cheesecake.

The past several years of our marriage has made us good at this- this water drifting summer day dance of meaningful conversation ,you brushing the bees from my toes, and me sneaking smiling glimpses of your smiling back brown eyes.

They say that love is when you have found the one you cannot live without.
I am not so sure. Everyone can go on living without some one.
This is not skepticism. This is science.

That afternoon, as you reached down your hand to pull me out of the water, and wrapped a towel around my shoulders
I realized that love is more simply this:

When you have found yourself in the best possible company imaginable.

I cannot imagine wanting to dance on the water with anyone other than you.
So I guess this means love.

Ex. 3.
To the Ocean:
I am sorry we did not get to see each other much during this trip.
I saw you through some Newport alley ways, but it was dark then,
and I wasn't in the drivers seat.
I have not forgotten you.
In all these year you would think your song would be a distant memory,
but that is far from the truth.
If anything, your absence has only heightened my awareness of your shore song,
and I find myself listening intently on crowded streets for traces of your notes...
A seagull in a parking lot, saltwater taffy in the local candy store, the roar of a plane engine,
sometimes even the treading tires on rain covered streets will guide me back to you and your lullaby.
I am hoping, romantically I suppose, that since it seems I cannot forget you,
that maybe your tides,
your ebbs and flows are closer to me than I think,
and that when we meet again, it will be ocean joining ocean,
not body meeting sea.

Ex. 4
The thing about being caught in the rain is that you have to let it fall.
It's so funny to me how rain can either make a girl look like a drowned rat...
or the most beautiful creature alive, depending on whether she chooses to fight it or not.

Rain has no competition. Not even when faced with waterproof mascara.
So it's best to just let it soak into your hair and dance on your skin.

*photograph taken by Beth Adams, Location: Nice


Claire said...

And you take my breath away once more. You are truly gifted!

Rather ironic... I was hoping to write about rain yesterday. The skies were threatening but it never came and so I will patiently for it the first rain to fall and then I will write...


Chris said...

This is really beautiful, Jessi.

Steve said...

Nice exercise. And sentiments, too. You evoke emotion in the midst of descriptive narrative well with economy of words.
Can I make a suggestion? The title gets lost up above there and so I'd recommend moving the title under the photo. The title does help to frame how the elements are tied and people may not see the title when it's buries up there.

bmommy said...

beautiful writing...i just found your blog and am really enjoying reading all of your posts :)

Georgia (AKA g-bug) said...

i miss you, yessi.

please come back!!!

can't wait to read all about your trip!