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Well Spent

The haunting has begun.


Somehow, some way, you must come to me.

I will not disappoint.

I do not go into this flame blinded.

I go in eyes wide open

Thrilled by your brilliance.


The sadness though.

The lows of denial.

Lows of truth

The lows of another missed opportunity in life to experience something beyond the ordinary.

Beyond the day to day.

In the realm of fantasy but so much more.

A pinnacle which may go no higher.

Yet we strive to climb ever upward

while we delete pieces of ourselves,

Stack them,

Step upon them.

Each time we select a slice of passion,

a chunk of desire,

a brick of debauchery,

While our shells stretch ever higher.

At some point, we shall fall.


But what a freefall it will be!


The best fireworks in the world cannot imagine our flameout!

We’ll scream together!

Sure, part of our scream is panic and disorientation.

But the glee!

Unabashed, we gasp air as we fall from grace with sexual deities.

We flutter like spent leaves back to the cold earth.

We hope to land together.

Nestled by the potential rot of life to experience

into the comforts of two bonded humans.


We both know, though, we may yet become caught up in one of life’s barrel fires

where each catch flame and again soar

to those lofty heights we once achieved.

Frail, glowing-ash replicas of who we once were,

grateful for the final fire,

the memory that we kissed.

We made love.

We stirred passion to its core stratospheric essence.

We count our lives well spent.

That first kiss,

so long ago,

yet still on my lips.

Still in my heart.

Everything and nothing.

An ember billowed to flame by our breaths of desire.

They’re all here –







Sadness clings to longing’s coattails like morning mist to a mountain.

Lazy hollows steeped in mystery,

shrouded by ghostlike images,

lying in wait for something spectacular to occur.


We’ve been well spent.

And like the Phoenix,

we’re not dead yet…


Our Imaginations stand as the great mystery as well as the most untapped resource on Earth. When we combine imagination and reality, wondrous inventions are born. Inventions of physical things, inventions of concepts, inventions of plot, inventions of life. Imagination wraps our dreams, aspirations, desires, fears, and a host of other life experiences in possibilities.

Imagination delivers life to the soul. Writing purges the backlog of imaginings which allows fresh ideas, feelings, concepts, and the like to spring forth into a new day. As a new dawn recedes, the day rushes forth in all its expectant wonder. Will you grab it? Taste it? Experience it?