Writing: a passage from next novel, Bad Before Good & Those In Between I stared at his Reeses Peanut Butter Cup colored-eyes. His eyelashes were two-feet away and seem to lock onto mine. Neither of us blinked as I spoke to him. “Here I stand as complex much as you stand as a masterpiece of a man although you lean on your imperfections much more then you embrace your perfections. With that being said, I understand its about how I handle me…myself, and not what others think of me. Others cannot understand my wonderful complexity. God created some mad-science out of me and folks cannot get a perceptive of understanding me. “Folks may present falsehoods of multitudes of deceptions attempting to make them better than me, or to hurt me. I refrain from conceding to their shortcomings as to having an impact on my life. They will never change me from trusting until I cannot trust that someone anymore. I only acknowledge I have another mountain to climb, and I climb. To not rise-up, is to say, I’m weak. My life is about how I handle myself in the face of my time, is now. Tomorrow offers no assurance of another day or night. I feel no need to call out the hurt that tries to hurt me. I blow a kiss to all, no matter who they are; a kiss of a blessing of respecting them, or a kiss of death they bring upon themselves. Not all death is about being six-feet under; walking dead talk to us, dislike us, and don’t even know us. Im me, I love me, rich or poor or healthy or broken in two. The one thing that can never change is my wonderful complexity. Love me or leave me. Embrace me or run from me. Here I will always stand for you, will you stand for me?” His lips, like two Indian summer half-moons wet like morning dew, they parted, and the universe was between. His tongue moved unhurriedly like a falling star across the dark sky. His teeth floated down onto his bottom half moon lip and he pulled it in, and he slowly, so slowly released his bottom lip to meet up with his upper lip as he moved inches closer to me. It felt like my skin was in a toaster and I needed the hot bread to pop-up, now. He placed his hot lips onto my shy smile. Shocks and eruptions, I felt them electrify my inner and other soul. © Alvin L.A. Horn, multi-award award winning novelist & spoken word artist The author of the New novel ~ONE SAFE PLACE~ please order now, and read my others ~PERFECT CIRCLE~, and Brush Strokes Published by ZANE & Simon and Schuster Are you sleeping on this group, better wake up to Fertile Ground youtu.be/AlNn0ewZszs
Posted on: Mon, 30 Jun 2014 20:36:49 +0000
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