deepundergroundpoetry.com
VIII
She loved him in his strength
His rough boxing around the edges
His gruff not quite gentled
His weakness for her beauty
He loved her in her softness
Her beautiful imperfections
Her calm that seemed so settled
A humor that was so quirky
*
He sat in the stillness and glanced out the window to the darkness which lay beyond. It was early and the sun had not yet risen, and the clouds hid the stars and the moonlight, but this was his time of silent reflection on the fading of dreams and the coming of day and the hopes it might bring. So he allowed his mind to dream.
And he thought of her - more than she imagined and more than he would allow. And in the thinking a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth.
The world was a crazy place.
He called her Angel. He felt that wouldn’t have been her choice for a term of endearment but she was content to let him use it. He never told her why. Some things you don’t explain, as if the explaining would somehow kill the meaning. You know that special inner meaning names possess. He guessed others might think of some heavenly association…and perhaps in a way it was, but to his way thinking it was anticipation of an unspoken promise.
You see, he was waiting for the day, and he hoped the day would come, when she would give herself to him - completely, as only one in love can give...with her past falling away in their present. And more importantly, if anyone would believe him, he waited for the morning after when he would watch her as she stirred awake and the memories of the night they had spent in loving would dawn in her eyes. He waited for that look in her eyes, nothing hidden, everything given, her face an unguarded mask as she turned into his embrace to search for the same in his eyes. In that moment that couldn’t lie she would be his angel, she would share in his truth. Become his truth. She would be his angel…and he would call her whatever she liked.
He chuckled softly and shook his head. She had gotten under his skin.
His world had become a crazy place.
The rain had started falling again, as softly as these thoughts dissolved. And he rose to go to work.
His rough boxing around the edges
His gruff not quite gentled
His weakness for her beauty
He loved her in her softness
Her beautiful imperfections
Her calm that seemed so settled
A humor that was so quirky
*
He sat in the stillness and glanced out the window to the darkness which lay beyond. It was early and the sun had not yet risen, and the clouds hid the stars and the moonlight, but this was his time of silent reflection on the fading of dreams and the coming of day and the hopes it might bring. So he allowed his mind to dream.
And he thought of her - more than she imagined and more than he would allow. And in the thinking a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth.
The world was a crazy place.
He called her Angel. He felt that wouldn’t have been her choice for a term of endearment but she was content to let him use it. He never told her why. Some things you don’t explain, as if the explaining would somehow kill the meaning. You know that special inner meaning names possess. He guessed others might think of some heavenly association…and perhaps in a way it was, but to his way thinking it was anticipation of an unspoken promise.
You see, he was waiting for the day, and he hoped the day would come, when she would give herself to him - completely, as only one in love can give...with her past falling away in their present. And more importantly, if anyone would believe him, he waited for the morning after when he would watch her as she stirred awake and the memories of the night they had spent in loving would dawn in her eyes. He waited for that look in her eyes, nothing hidden, everything given, her face an unguarded mask as she turned into his embrace to search for the same in his eyes. In that moment that couldn’t lie she would be his angel, she would share in his truth. Become his truth. She would be his angel…and he would call her whatever she liked.
He chuckled softly and shook his head. She had gotten under his skin.
His world had become a crazy place.
The rain had started falling again, as softly as these thoughts dissolved. And he rose to go to work.
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