Painted GirlsThe last time I was in Washington DC, there was about six inches of snow on the ground. It was still snowing when I flew out, which did make taking off in the plane a tad shaky. For anyone who's ever lived in Washington DC, you'd know that snow isn't a frequent visitor. Often times it doesn't get cold enough for the precipitation to turn into snow.
This was three months ago. I returned to a warm spring day, with a partly cloudy sky. Everyone had already packed and stowed away their winter clothes, no longer going needing their thick coats and windbreakers. The outfits people were wearing got more colorful and less bland. Flowers were just starting to bloom again, though the famous cherry blossoms were a few weeks away from blossoming.
"You got yourself a nice tan during your trip to the Bahamas, Kix," says the man sitting across from me at the table in a Starbucks in Dupont Circle, the same one we met at before I flew out. He wanted to meet up with me when I returned.
"I don't like bei
SmileRain clouds were sweeping in
As the sun set behind us.
You were behind me as I
Opened the door and let us inside.
You smiled, your beautiful smile,
I could never forget it.
A month later, I saw you again
Only in a dream, but it was a good dream.
Not much happened beyond a chess match
But your smile was just as bright.
I awoke in the morning, you on my mind
Wishing that I'd see that smile for real.
A month ago, that wish came true
But at a price I didn't want to pay.
You smiled that smile for another
I was lucky to have caught a glimpse.
Your smile was also powerful
Strong enough to break my heart.
If I dreamt about you tonight
I'll wake like I did many months ago
Wishing to see your smile.
I could never forget your smile.
Though the unfortunate truth is
I don't even know your name.
CrunchesShe sits under a large tree
by the lake
near the dock
where all the kids
jump into the water.
Some book in her hands,
she kicks off her sandals
letting her blonde hair
dance with the wind
as she reads.
Few speak to her.
Some don't have the guts,
others simply fail
to steal her interest
from the book in her hands.
One day I will swipe her eyes;
I will be the one to learn her name.
Water RipplesThe air was getting warm again. Spring was coming through the door. After a cold and unforgiving winter, it felt good to actually feel like the sun was warming your skin.
Edward stood on the walking bridge across Cherry Hill Lake. It was a peaceful view to say the least. Edward's eyes were glaring into the waters, watching them ripple. He was having one of those moments when you find yourself expecting to find the meaning of life present itself in the water's ripples. But there was nothing. He only saw his own reflection staring back at him.
In time, another person came and stood next to him. It was Drew. Edward didn't greet him; he waited for Drew to speak first, like he always does.
"You know, if you keep watching the water long enough," he said, "you'll find the meaning of life float up for you."
"That's what I'm waiting for," said Edward, only looking at Drew via his reflection.
"Or you might drown," continued Drew. "I don't remember how the story goes." Edward didn't respond, most
The Cocktail WaitressThey dress to make me fall in love
with their short skirts and long legs.
A walk of elegance
drawing my eyes all over
their svelte bodies.
There is hope
that maybe I am lonely enough
to give a higher tip
thinking that I may earn her approval;
that an extra dollar
might win her heart.
There could be hope
that it is not fake.
Her smile is genuine
and that the correlating thoughts
are shared between us.
But I know
I am not special to her,
and the feelings she has for me
go out to every other patron as well.
SurroundedThe escalator descends into the tunnels.
People busier than I
rush by me.
I, notebook and pen in hand,
scribble useless writings
as I reach the tunnels.
Pacing on the platform
a man shoulders me.
An accidental run-in by the looks
but that is far from the truth;
this much I just know.
By the time the train arrives
I am scribbling a final note,
so that someone will know what I am.