I am taken with the idea that certain moments have a life of their own. A sigh. A kiss. A look. They are more then their parts. People, no matter how often I dissect them in word or wit, are the same. Even the clumsiest of people are capable of a moment of grace so sure that you’re left breathless. The most cynical people capable of giving hope. The most lonely people capable of being filled.
***
Her whispers were not unlike her lies,
which were silky and slid through my fingers,
or like her smiles
which would spend time with the chauffeur downstairs
or even like her laughter
which would crawl up my spine
and kiss the back of my neck
No, her whispers were sultry things
and they liked to spend their time in her bed
Hey. Thanks for the link. I’m honoured. I’ve linked you back in my sidebar.
Chantal.
“I Was Hitler’s Wet Nurse”
http://iwashitlerswetnurse.blogspot.com
that was lovely.
more please.