I Slide My Arms

 I slide my arms around you 

Our lips meet 

Gentle 

Soft 

Delicate 

Almost shy 

A touch, eye to eye 

So we begin again 

Our age old journey 

As though always intended this 

Continuum of physical poetry 

Cheek 

Neck 

Shoulders 

Breasts 

Lightest touch 

Or strong enfolding 

Reading each other's sighs 

Hardenings

Sweet wet responses 

Morse code of desire 

Open

Welcomed

Filled

Heaven in your satin folds

Flowing waves' movement

And then together in our

Shared liquid bursting

Union 

I feel you on me

You feel me in you

And in our mixed scent and sweet wetness

We dance on

Broken Flowers.

Broken Flowers.

Golden 
Warm 
Shared 
Loving 
A vision of equality
and 
Future voyages
Plans 
Hopes 
Excitement

            Stay

Valentine confirmation

            Stay

Then five bitter words,

                                    It'll soon turn sour

?

Not me
Not us?

Cooling
Distance
Control

?

It's OK
She's busy
Aunty
Death
Hep C for herself
Jackie and baby
Work
More and more
Too much

Remember the love
The golden glister
Her loving gaze
Our promise.
Eyes filled with "us"
And hope

Cooling

Distant

Pushed gently

Firmly away

            run

My heart written in a card
My soul in love in words
Hoping reassurance

            Stay

                                    What a lovely card, where do you find them?

            run

Reaching
I love you in a text

                                    "seen"

...

...

            run

A call
Friendly
Neutral
"I love you"

...

                                    "Love you too"

            Run

Such a small whisper thing
Hardly heard
Hardly spoken
Obliged into existence
Pulled
Reluctant
Hidden

...

            RUN

Friday
Distance
Alone

Waiting nervous
Broken Flowers, breaking,
waiting
Hoping you won't come

            run

Watched in the street
Cold

            run

There

No smile of welcome
No light
Who is this woman?
Blackness
No love
Dark within
Empty
Heard-hearted negotiator
of her future
But not ours, or mine

            Run

Golden heart-fire
not even banked
Ashes, if that
Armoured
All that is missing; a briefcase

            Run

Are we OK?

            Run

                                    Words

            Stay

I don't understand
Confusion deafens me

            Run

Can we talk?
My car?
Quiet womblike
Enfolding dark
Safe

                                    Too cold

Where is trust?

            Run

                                    In there

Cafe?

            Run

Bright Friday bustle
Pressing eyes, for my tears
Pressing ears, to the sound
of my breaking heart
Pressing closeness of
strangers,
as I long only for your
touch
Waterfall of meaningless
voices,
to smother my questions.

Just so you can tell and
close

            Run

No,
I can't go there

            Run

Who is this stranger?
Telling me
Our love is dead
Telling me
I can't be equal
Telling me
We can't continue

So soon after the beauty
of before

            Run

Telling me
I was never in love with her

            Run

Telling me

                                    With you it's all or nothing

No,
It's love
Or it's not love

If not love, then what?

            Run

Inequality
Cold child role
Critically chiding,
Me
Waiting
Withering

I can't
Not after our love, our
vision
Not this diversion from
our journey
Not into the dark limbo
you want

            RUN

I wrote this in recall of my last date with Christine –my true love and soul mate.  Broken Flowers was the film we were due to see on our last date, 26 February. It is in three voices: narrator, inner voice, my lost partner ),

Like throwing a bomb into someone's life.

Shhh, don't say a word.

Why the title?


Try telling someone you were raped.
Watch the blast wave rip the smile from their face,
burn the joy of trust from their eyes,
gouge open with shrapnel words their scars and inner fears.
Watch as the waves ripple across their relationships and understandings.
Watch as one you like or love becomes jealous of secret knowledge, goes cold at a telling to another,
resents your calm reminder of the monster in the dark.

Witness calm after.
After the air stills.
After the rending sound of soft voice fades in sighed gasps.
Understanding
Acceptance
Comradeship
Knowledge shared
Fellowship

An Angel quoted Maya Angelou : Each time a [survivor] stands up for [themselves], without knowing it possibly, without claiming it, they stand up for all [survivors].

That is why I am here.
An Angel inspired me to share as she has shared.
For all survivors.

We will get there.

Anon.

Justine Marie Zingg Poet

Stale Love Song

The birds fly above me

And nest below my heart

I know this the end will be,

And our hands must go apart.

We must drink our wine

Another day, another night

As love tears open goodbyes

My heart has not left a fight.

Our souls, once one, have now became two

Distant beams of light

And not one timepeice, old or new

Could save time or love tonight.

Copywright2015 Justine Marie Zingg

Just a mile from here

The radio burbles its complacency

Cars swish past.

Yet, just a mile from here,

Beneath gently weeping trees,

Among soft-leather rotting leaves,

My hear lies dreaming.

Places far distant,

Old in the Sun.

Places warm welcoming.

Places harsh and strange.

Alien worlds of heat and peace.

A smile,

A caress.

Softly, waves heave,

Patterns form behind my eyes,

My life is changing,

My soul migrating. 

Come

Come,

Light my smile

Being warm kisses and joy 

Share yourself with me

As I share myself with you 

Let us be beautiful in the soft darkness 

Dance the dance of life 

and love 

and passion 

Swim circles of pleasure 

A shoal of two 

Two people 

Across the night sky's ether 

Together