Archive for March, 2016

27
Mar
16

The Edges of Her

I want

To kiss her

Slender neck,

Pulling

Her hair

Up high

Enough

To reveal

Her

Soft skin,

So that I can

Place my lips

Against her

Neck,

Just below

Her hairline,

And around

And beneath

Her

Ears.

I want to kiss

Her

Below her

Chin,

And along

Her

Throat,

Along her collarbones,

To her shoulders,

And down

Her

Arms to her wrists,

Until

I can kiss

The palms of her hands.

I want to kiss

Her

Chest,

Between her breasts,

And down

Her ribcage,

To her stomach,

Then the edges

Of her

Hip bones,

With my hands

Around her

Waist.

I want to

Kiss her

Along her curves,

From the small

Of her back,

Down

Between each half

Of her ass,

To the back

Of each thigh,

Behind each knee,

Kissing each calf,

As her legs

Wrap me

In an embrace.

I want

To kiss her

Ankles

And shins,

With my hands

Holding her

Thighs,

Then feel her

Powerful

Inner thighs

Against my ears,

As she

Pulls my hair,

To pull me

Closer

To her

Lips,

Finally,

For that first

Kiss

Of breathless

Searching,

And tongues

Entwined,

While the world stops

Long enough

To allow

The silence

To be broken

By loud breathing,

And the sweaty collapse

Of tangled limbs.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 27, 2016

27
Mar
16

Gasping

I’ve been drowning

For so long

That

I’ve forgotten

If

I ever knew

How to swim

To begin with.

I’ve flailed

Against

The waves

For so long,

Sputtering

Mouthfuls of water,

Gasping

Between the crashes

Of forces

Greater than

Myself,

Searching

For the bottom

To place a foot

To steady myself,

Unable

To see

The shore,

But somehow

I have not

Yet

Drowned-

Either

By the will

Of God,

Or the cruel hand

Of Fate,

I am

Still

Here.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 27, 2016

18
Mar
16

Made it

Well,

You made it

Another year,

Around the sun

As the earth spun,

And the tides

Rose and fell,

Seasons changed

From Spring,

To Summer,

To Fall,

To Winter,

And back

To Spring

For another birthday.

It wasn’t pretty-

It still isn’t-

And won’t be

For a while

Longer.

The voices

Of doubt,

And fear,

And anxiety,

And loneliness

Are louder

Than ever

In your head-

Don’t expect it to get any quieter any time soon, either.

But you’re here,

Still,

Somehow,

Against the odds,

And the best efforts

Of others,

And yourself,

To prevent that

From happening.

You’re here.

Here.

Your daughters

Still love you,

And really don’t

Give a shit

About the voices

In your head,

But only

That you

Keep getting up

Each morning

To make breakfast

And rush them

Out the door

To school,

Complaining

Each step of the way,

And that

You

Continue

To read books

At bedtime,

Or tell funny stories

Of your awkward

And relatable

Youth,

Or sit on the floor

To play cards,

Or snap the tiny Legos® together

When smaller fingers

Don’t have the strength

Or coordination

To do it

On their own.

They see you

Hurt,

But still love

You,

Even when

You don’t.

You’re still

Here,

So stay

Here,

And be

Here

A little longer at least

For them-

For you.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 18, 2016




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