Out of the 7 people billion people in this world,

3.5 billion to pick and choose from.

And yet here I stand in front of the universe,

Waiting to find the one I’d call My Kinda Woman.

Some prefer sexy while others prefer tall,

Some prefer athletic while others prefer a doll.

3.5 billion types to choose from,

But somehow I struggle to even find a date to prom.

As I sit here writing about my preferred woman,

Thus evolves a vague image in my head.

Someone I hope who keeps me on my toes,

Someone who shares with me all her woes.

An independent woman who knows her way,

A wonderful woman who’ll brighten my day.

With an effortless smile and a contagious laugh,

Someone personifying my world in a photograph.

Unapologetically herself perfect in her imperfection,

A woman so awesome that she can be humble.

To you dear…

There was a chilly mist in the March air, but I love my early morning walks and this gray gloom wasn’t going to keep me from today’s. I stopped midway on a bridge over the creek to watch a pair of mallards silently pick and poke along the muddy bank. Nothing could ruin this perfect serenity.

“Hey!” the shrill voice called. “Beautiful, right?” The spry old woman pointed towards the ducks as she marched enthusiastically onto the bridge to stand beside me. She twirled her arms in several rapid circles, stretched her back, then leaned on the railing and began doing standing push-ups. Dressed in sweat pants and jacket, baseball cap and sneakers, she had all the markings of devoted walker.

“Hi.” I said tentatively, unsure of what was happening.

“You’re from the South, aren’t you? Hiiiii. That’s how you said it. Hiiiii.” She spoke with her back to me…

and finally, we allow ourselves to be seen in plain sight
spread our gossamer souls flat on the table
the fatigue i’ve hauled around for so long has finally alighted
our fingers close around something soft
we deserve this, after all the enamel we’ve drilled

i think about everything this girl has left behind
how sometimes my mind still plays your name like a staccato note
but it’s different now, it doesn’t hurt anymore
to not think about you, and i’ve still no idea how to love
but damn at least i haven’t stopped trying

and oh, how the years have passed, our ages in tow
leaving greener days behind, and
growing closer to something that may resemble adulthood
but god, the way we hold the world in our palms
in moments like these, will never change

whatever our expiry date is, we are far from it tonight
we blow…