room

Squares Like Smallish Casinos

I'm in love with this square.
She's flat on four edges,
like most of these cubic,
centrist collectors of
tears and well-wishes.
She likes to stay dressed in
sheets made of linen, and
nobody's swept her in months.
But she's speckled and smokey,
like a smallish casino, where
dreams can come true, but only
while sleeping, or nodding off gin.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

Resolved to Love

Her eyes opened to the dark of the coming dawn.
Silence, like the canopy above her head, hung in the air, if only to be disturbed by the rustling wind.
She blinks again, unsure of what her eyes are showing.
He was there, laying beside her in bed, his face soft from slumber.
Beside her was where she found him.

He could feel her eyes, like the morning sun, enveloping him in their warmth.
He didn't dare stir at fear he would startle her and force her to hide behind a blush.
He knew she was questioning his presence.
Then slowly, he felt her wrap herself in the sheet and remove herself from the bed.
Never again would he let her leave him.

She clung to the sheet as her feet slipped across the cold floor.
She gazed through the open window at the commencing morning.
She couldn't bring herself to find her clothing that was thrown about the room.
In that moment she was resolved to stay.
She was resolved to let herself love him.

He watched her as the sun slowly rose to illuminate the paleness of her skin.
He let his feet touch the floor and carry him to her.
His arms moved to tighten the sheet around her, and yet, secure her to him.
She was too much to take in all at once, he loved all of her equally.
So he closed the curtain again.

Together they let the morning pass to night once more.
And in their slumber they held onto each other for dear life.
Never again would they let go.
Never to be apart.
Together to greet the oncoming dawn.

Resolved to always love.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is quite a poem, but it's not a short story either. I thought there might be an audience for it here.