Comments Posted By Ash Wednesday

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Ears, feet, coordination, triangulation – I once heard a story on the breeze and then it died. Been tbinkng about an album my mind still likes to wrap around.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 05.04.2014 @ 2:50 pm


There is no stillness before this storm, I’ve warned you. Eyes will flash like lightning. Hands will clap like thunder. The wind my love, it doesn’t whisper, it howls. Provoke me, and I will embrace you with my destruction.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 04.23.2014 @ 9:47 pm


My mind played witness to the desire unfurling before me, with each step down the hall, I questioned my intent. Was I ready for this? Was I ready for him? My hand hovers my hand in front of the blue touch screen to register my presence.

No I should knock. That’s more traditional, isn’t it? But if I were traditional, this scene would be playing out the other way around, wouldn’t it?

But all this time we’ve been playing at the same thing – circling, drawing in, fading out, reappearing, reconnecting, circling. I place my hand on the touch screen, and whisper “I’m here” into the receiver.

I’m done circling.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 03.05.2014 @ 11:15 pm


I cut my teeth on you.
In other areas you weren’t my first, my second, much less my third.
But in this one aspect, you were my first.
So you are the one I think of first when it comes verbs like “to confide.”

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 02.10.2014 @ 11:08 am


The adaptability to find something or act exactly as needed in a given moment; it was a tall order. A measure of improvisation as applied to exactness, it was as much the scientist’s game as the musician’s as the writer’s as the politician’s as the artist’s as the teacher’s – it’s all pretty much the same balancing act carried to different ends. And there in the minutia, were the keys to unlocking this exacting goal.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 01.01.2014 @ 1:44 pm


Dear love, you are the calm before the store, the calm in the eye of the storm, and the calm after the storm. No matter the damage.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 12.31.2013 @ 10:28 pm


Cross hairs
Eyes widen
Shivery, shivery, simmering sigh
Oui, tis like heaven in a shell
Ring her bell
Give him hell

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 12.29.2013 @ 1:27 pm


Derailed reminds me of someone I know. A picture flashes to mind like a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s hard not to smile when thinking of all their quirks. It’s all mirth and giggles. I can’t help myself, really.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 12.18.2013 @ 2:38 pm


Gunther had commissioned the artist, true. But this wasn’t a professional dinner he’d meant to take her on, rather, he’d hoped to move the relationship out of the working realm and into his “bedroom realm”. Only he wasn’t very smooth with women, but she had a personality that seemed to suggest his stilted way of speaking and sometimes aloof mannerisms didn’t offend her. He figured in her line of work she probably met many “creative” types who were likely to be even weirder than him and he was probably a rock of stability in a tumultuous ocean of crazy.

But it had nevertheless surprised Gunther greatly that she had let him touch her silky gown and he felt worried a bit when she flashed him a devilish grin in the elevator.

“How did you put it, Gunther dear?” She gleefully whispered into his ear as she shimmied beneath his hands in the apartment, the silk of her gown riding up her thighs, “You’d like to see me without my top on?”

“P” in “top” popped like wet lips coming off a lollipop, her giggles were like fizz in his ears. This might not end well Gunther thought in a flash of panic. Or it could be the best choice he’d ever made, this was a thought that followed after she’d coyly peeled the straps of her dress off. It was hard to gauge that sort of thing in situations like these.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 12.17.2013 @ 7:15 am


They knocked the wreath of plumeria off her head when they tumbled into bed, barely locking the door behind them. She tore at the layers of leis they wore, scattering petals everywhere in the process.

“My whole heart,” she thought to herself smugly as she sighed, relishing the feel of crushed petals in her hands, the scent of islands upon them, as the sound of love reverberated in her ears and prickled along her skin. Just like a dream, just like a dream ready to pop.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 12.15.2013 @ 9:30 pm


She placed a hand on his thigh, yet she seemed hesitant to move forward. Her gaze flew from his lap to meet his startled eyes, she wanted to see if she’d misjudged the source of their tension. He was truly baffled by the sudden change in demeanor. It wasn’t like that between them, was it? She kissed him softly then. She was a ghost at first, manifesting slowly. Her fingers traced his rippling jawline and fluttered down his neck before she broke their kiss with a gentle pop…this wasn’t a dream. It was all too real, like the scent of her hair when it had brushed against his face. All of her begged him to make the next move and there was no second guessing the ultimate goal of her attentions when she opened up for him under the lightest of caresses.

» Posted By Ash Wednesday On 10.21.2013 @ 12:00 am

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