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Welcome to A Writer's Landscape!

You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Sunday, July 3, 2011

     Or is it the other?

I turn my head
          a beautiful mouth
          parted delicately in a sleep filled
Oh how dreams shape
our faces
     without control.
          Soft cheeks chisel the pattern
          of his bones
          Eyes close the light out
     His chest heaves gently
     under his breath.
I move my body along his
     hoping motion will awaken --
          wanting something.
He moves
back towards me
arm reaching for his clock.

“What time do you work?
     “One,” I answer in a gentle voice
          The raucous silence of the
          box fan in the window
steals him away
     back to sleep.

Consciously uncomfortable
     I dress and leave the room.
Two hours before I must depart,
     I take a shower.
          Warmth washing away
          doubt and insecurity.
It’s quiet without the crew
all alone in a
          stranger’s house.
there’s nothing for me
     while the beauty
          slumbers in
          his distant emotions

     Dried and dressed
     seated on the love seat
          I wait in earnest hope.
An hour descends
          waiting is fruitless.
     I go to say goodbye...

Crawling onto the bed
     effortlessly keeping it stilled
I kiss his cheek.
“I have to go.”

He rolls onto his back
     exposing his soft chest
     and smiles through his
          Genuine happiness with
          a spark of infatuation
“Oh, ok... Have a good day.”
“I will.”
We kiss quickly.
     gently on the lips
          almost emotionlessly.
“Sleep,” I say
          He turns back over
          and drifts away as I
          shut the door.

I leave.
         And leave behind nothing
Torn under a morning sky.
     Or is it the other?

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