The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth


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Of Yesterday

Of yesterday I’ll remember,
The sharp brightness of February’s sun,
Cold air that cloaked two figures side-by-side,
Hands brushing like the whisper of the wind.
I’ll remember the hushed whir of a projector,
Shoulders touching gently in the dark,
Silent anticipation held in fleeting glances
And the fumbling of fingers on laps.
The sound of laughter will echo in my mind,
Of teasing, play-fighting and stupid faces,
And your eyes, your eyes bright in the sunlight,
Will remain long after memory fades.
I’ll remember a train ride home,
The sky fading to an inky shadow that cloaks
The world surrounding as fast as the cold,
Day fading slowly as shadows crawl in.
An arm relaxed around my shoulders,
Fingers braiding and unbraiding themselves,
In hands I had not known before,
And a soft, comforting voice beside me.
But most of all I’ll remember the moonlight,
The gentle creak of rusted swings in the breeze,
And your lips, your lips a breath from mine,
Then no distance left between.


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Valentine

I don’t understand how anyone could hate Valentine’s day, because once you peel back the plastic, fake exterior of heart-shaped balloons, chocolate and material roses, you see the small sliver of what the day is all about- love. Pure, simple, love.

It blows my mind to think of how many people found love today, whether greeting it as a tentative stranger or welcoming it like an old friend. The many people who let the weight finally fall off their shoulders and confessed their feelings, letting emotion tumble clumsily out of them and into somebody else.

Think of the amount of fluttering butterflies, hammering hearts and shaking sweaty palms. The amount of pens poised above paper, fingers hovering over keys and lips parted ready to speak. The amount of people who took the plunge into the ice cold deep, and were forced to wait a shattering few seconds for a reply.

‘I feel the same.’

The amount of breaths released like balloons to the sky, eyes lit up like lanterns and smile dancing across faces. The amount of people whose lips slowly met another’s in a moment of pure, honest love, as a thousand sparks exploded and cascaded around their heads and raced to the ceiling above their heads.

The amount of fingers intertwined and hands gently brushing. The amount of blushes, stumbles, stutters, giggles, smiles. The amount of confessions released and stories began. Heart-wrenching, raw, beautiful, entwined in a single touch, smile and word passed between smiling lips- love. That is why I love Valentine’s Day.