i caressed her lightly across the nape of the neck
because such touch signals connection
she turned her head to see who it might be
and it was me
i wasn’t expecting fireworks or glee
and certainly not my perplexity
her eyes remained passive
no upturn of lip and no instinctive lean or reach toward me
it was apathy, and observation
reciprocity of reaction is what we take for granted
where interest or love intertwine
i turned and let my feet fleet me away
i left changed
knowledge is pitiless
X
Personal words and a truth to be understood.
“The ax forgets. The tree remembers.”
Once you’ve let someone down, it tends to leave a scar. Once those words escape your lips, they could echo forever to the person hearing them. It’s impossible to know the alchemy in someone’s brain and heart that converts something seemingly inconsequential into a wound. If you speak in anger or through the bravado of substances, though you said or did those words or deeds solely with the desire to inflict pain, these things break both trust and connection. I’ve been both the guilty party and receiver many times. Once words are born into the world or behavior is demonstrated, the ripple effect may be permanent. If you say the words in anger, it demonstrates the urge to cause pain. If you say them under the influence, it is truth exposed only through the virtue of a lack of inhibition. If you commit words or behavior to a chapter in your life without the intention of pain, an apology born in one’s heart is the only place to start. Ears and hearts conceal scars inflicted long ago. And they shape the perspective and outlook of the person receiving them.
Love, X
When you are interested in many things, it’s bewildering for someone near you not to want to experience it. Especially the expressive parts that reveal not only the goings-on of the day but glimpses into the invisible world each of us has in our own mind. It is sacrosanct that interest and enthusiasm at least simmer in one’s direction, if not boil effusively.
People are never complete unless they are finished. There’s always something new about them if their mind is fresh and their attention is focused.
We’re supposed to reward those who don’t conceal themselves. It’s authenticity rendered in flesh and bone, words and behavior. Such people are making bids without thinking.
Gottman studies the role of bids in romantic relationships. (And some can be applied to worldly interpersonal connections.) The higher the bids toward another person, the deeper the relationship and connection. As these bids lessen or go unreturned, you can chart the connection’s demise. If you’re unfamiliar with the Gottman research, it’s extensive and provides words to frame many of the things you already know and feel.
I feel strongly about all of this. I’m one of those people who unobtrusively shares a hell of a lot of myself, whether you’re standing in front of me or whether I opt for the virtual world. My bid is constant. I’m meeting people more than halfway. I scratch my head in puzzlement and then bewilderment when people sharing my lane fail to understand that time is taken rather than made. People say they seek connection and understanding. But then many engage superficially or let the external intrude where it should not. It hasn’t helped that we now carry universal entertainment and distraction devices in our pockets.
PS I’ve said it 23,467 times: everything that matters is invisible. Among those are love, kinship, friendship, energy, enthusiasm, and interest. Each of us has limited time; your choices indicate what holds value for you.
Love, X
So many people complicate it.
Or insist that it’s a control issue.
When done maturely, both people decide what’s right and important for each of them. Each has free will and choice.
Love, X
I’ve reminded many people about this because it infects many relationships. Pay attention to what your person says they want or need. They’ll repeat it – until one day, they go silent. That silence equals danger.
Love, X
A version of this was seen by a LOT of people.
I deviated from what I knew to be true once – and I paid the price.
Love, X
how fortuitous is the silence
to begin not to miss the voice
convenient is the hunger
in time, food won’t be missed
unsatiated desires wither
and soon enough,
even the memory of what they once were
take care to tend your garden
nothing grows in unwatered soil
X
.
Rough hands
Scrubbed clean
Spots of blood
Bare to be seen
Nervous smile.
Rosy cheeks.
Hand in mine
On leather seats.
Red hot heart
Pumping high
I thought I
Might call him mine
Blue blue eyes
Smiling sad
This is so good
I’ve got it bad.
I see flags-
Crimson red-
But his touch
Goes to my head.
I pray – I do
This is true.
Sparks and light
Please come through.
I don’t know
What to do
If he’s done-
Already through.
I’ve got too
many souls
Been close to
Too many holes.
And I’m still
Alone in the dark.
I’m still
Alone in the dark.
Those rough hands
Lit a spark.
So roll credits,
This fades to dark.
“You are the Skittles of my heart.” – X
I waited day after day for the perfect moment. When the declining sun aligned perfectly against the ordinary tree by the road. There are only a couple of days of the year when it’s possible to capture this fleeting alchemy of orange at sunset. Which proves that even the most ordinary thing or person can shine with brilliance when someone is looking for it with patient eyes.
Love, X
.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 