You said I love you, and I said I love you I remember the time we drove to Malaga and stopped in Tarifa along the way. We parked at the little cervecería just off the highway by the Roman ruins and walked to the beach. After a while when we were hot we sat on the rocks at Cabo de Gracia under the waterfall and laughed … Continue reading I Remember the Sunset at Tarifa
A very rough draft of the opening chapter to Dancing with Orange Blossoms, the prequel to Honey Ko. I’m not sure I could write an entire novel this way, or if readers would enjoy it. Maybe I could bookend it this way but write the rest in the traditional manner.Thoughts? Is the italicized portion disconcerting? Is narration by a dead person too much. Finally, is … Continue reading Dancing with Orange Blossoms
The Sailor has a favorite bar, in every port of call, A favorite girl too, slender, stout, or tall; I’m no exception to the rule, immemorial in its time, Not so very particular, though her beauty be sublime; My favorite port of call, my favorite among the dozens, Rota Spain and sweet Susanna, and all her pretty cousins; Black hair my green-eyed beauty, and tiny … Continue reading A Sailor’s Favorite Bar
After we parted Having said our goodbyes With breaking heart And taste of metal In my mouth I walked Unaware of everything but you Through the afternoon Into evening Nighttime breeze cool On my wet face Never noticing The sun had set When I looked up and Through the blur There you were The first one I saw The first one I loved My Cassiopeia … Continue reading Susanna
Your fragrance often wafts into my head guided by the metaphysical pinings of two souls and the bond between spirits not tethered to temporal moorings. Mortal boundaries span six feet of earthly separation but the heavenly plane exists within our senses. Comforting, that thought, and breathing your scent brings thoughts of your heaven wafting through my mind. For heaven is where you took me taking … Continue reading Of Love and Fragrance
I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that … Continue reading Of Love and Memories
I wondered for a moment if she were kneeling, perhaps stocking the shelves, she barely peeked over the bar, but her Spanish green eyes were bright when she smiled and she told me she didn’t live far; she reached to my shoulders in her bare feet, not much higher in heels, and from my towering perch I never mentioned the few stray, white hairs she couldn’t … Continue reading My Spanish Love
Playfully, we spoke the words, “until death do us part,” She laughed, and her smile tugged at my heart, Will you love me in sickness and in health, she asked, Yes, my love, will you love me in poverty and in wealth? Of course, she said, her head tilted to one side, I’ll love you, you know, beyond the end of time; She turned her … Continue reading Susanna XI
Why do you torture me, Susanna? It is not I, William. It must be. I feel you watching me. I feel you watching me. No, William, I’m not here. I’m dead. You know that. Yes. I killed you. I left you in the cold and the rain. No, my love. I died of pneumonia in the hospital after the car accident. I couldn’t find my way … Continue reading Susanna VIII
“This is an essay Sam wrote after Susanna died. I asked him if I could keep it as a reminder of the two of them. He asked me not to share it, but he would have wanted you to read it. This is how they were, the way they acted with each other. Sam didn’t glamorize their relationship; he described it perfectly. I’ll read it … Continue reading The Love of Sam and Susanna
Sam and Susanna Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam They say you don’t hear the bullet that kills you. How could anyone know that? Because, they also say, bullets move faster than the speed of sound. By the time you hear the sound of the bullet in your back, you’re dead. What if you’re only wounded; you’d hear that bullet, wouldn’t you? Well, you’re not dead, are … Continue reading Invocation
“I think I fell in love with you this morning, dear lady.” “You think you did? You are not sure? Perhaps we should try again. Shall we meet for an apple in the morning?” “I had already planned to meet you for an apple tomorrow. And the next day, and the next, and the next, and every day until….” “Every day until what?” “Every day … Continue reading Susanna Avila
I trembled as I reached for Susanna, my Spanish Madonna, and touched her hip. My palm pressed against her soft, smooth, white flesh and her warmth spread over me until my face flushed and the burn of rising excitement engulfed me. I rubbed my hand across her shoulder and trilled my fingertips along her spine, raising goosebumps from her skin and causing her to shiver. … Continue reading Susanna IV
Susanna plucked a shrimp from the paper cone clutched in my hand and held it over my head like a seal trainer. She laughed as I leaned back and opened my mouth. I struggled not to laugh as I wagged my tongue. She brought the shrimp to my mouth and I captured her long, graceful fingers between my lips. She hesitated and gazed at me … Continue reading Susanna Avila III
Susanna Avila, my Catalan beauty, woman of Spain, Coy smile held mystery, Unknowable history, Too briefly our souls entwined, This beauteous love, my destiny. Soulful gaze, emerald eyes piercing, Black hair dancing with night, Skin purest translucent white, Slender and graceful, slim elfin form, Delicate, raven-haired sprite. Ivory shoulders, smooth marble breast, Face fairer than Venus’ race, Spirit virgin, chaste, Ethereal, supernal essence; Tender, enchanting … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Susanna plucked a shrimp from the paper cone in my hand and held it over my head like a seal trainer. She laughed as I tipped my head back and opened my mouth, playfully wagging my tongue as I struggled not to laugh. She brought the shrimp to my mouth and I captured her long, graceful fingers between my lips and…hesitated. She gazed deep into … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Writers Envy 