A Moment

aurora wienholdt  frozen moment

I was so close
I could count the fine lines around your eyes
and love each one for the marker it was
a road sign
a chalk arrow pointing the way through each smile
each frown
each puzzlement
all the moments of your life
I was so close that I inhaled the fragrance of your neck and hair
and held it in my lungs
cherishing another connection
I stood silent and absorbed 
focused entirely on you
and that was a moment
a single moment
as rich as a dollop of whipped cream

 

*artwork by aurora wienholdt*

 

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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