Wednesday, 10 November 2010

  • The Perpetual Nature of Summer Romances


    I wrote this poetic piece while reflecting upon summer love, and how quickly it seems to end. Has your summer fling ever blossomed into a long-term relationship? Regardless of the answer, summer love remains a cycle of bliss dipped misery.

    Summer Girl

    “When you’re looked down upon with disdain, turn away and let your back become the mirror.” That’s what she told me, anyway. At the time, I couldn't fathom what she meant. It was more of the same pseudo-metaphorical one-liners she enjoyed force feeding me, and I ate it every time. I didn’t know her name, I was too shy to ask.

    Her mere visage was memorable enough to forgo such formalities, because once you’ve stared into eyes so vacant, you begin to wonder if there was ever a reason to doubt the presence of wandering entities. With each new summer breeze, she danced like a dress addressed to undress; hung upon a line so sweet, ablaze like a shot of rye whiskey in the presence of July.

    I dreamt of a vessel capable of holding my collection of pins and needles, which account for my tough love - the tenderness quickly growing stale with experience. I never caught on quickly enough, although I was pretty swift the time when I decided to give myself up to your abuse. It felt great until the agony set in with my truths and our summer ended.

    I wound up at a funeral for two, shutting the empty shell of a coffin for good with my aforementioned pins and needles. I don’t want your summer, girl. One day, when you eventually decide to look back, I hope you catch your own reflection and it scares the dead out of you, because that’s all you are to me these days.

    Summer girl, I want to use you. I want your vacancy. I want you brushing up against my skin, just like your words swept against my stubble into these deafening ears. I can barely even think myself hear, but I have a feeling you'll be back in the coming year. Irrelevant as you may be, just like the changing of seasons I'll be falling to reason like winter wheat waiting to spring back to your summer embrace.

    Sincerely,
    Nuñez Love Doctor

    Certified with a PhD in Whiskey Business and Sappy Poetry.

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  • AsylumBlue
    • From: AsylumBlue
    • Name: AsylumBlue
    • Location: New York City, New York, United States
    • About Me: The musician in me is constantly dueling with my inner writer, trying to take its place. What I'm attempting to do is allow them to live harmoniously, but it seems that I'm a terrible peacemaker, because they haven't stopped bickering or flinging spit-balls at one another. I write political satire, short stories, poems and... actually, I can pretty much write about anything; I'm flexible (not physically, unfortunately). If I had to choose, it would be writing softcore romance novels full of seduction, extramarital affairs and incredibly specific details. I'm kidding about that last part, I think.
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