The Night of the Tropical Storm

They called it a tropical storm, and it forced us
Inside to escape the wind and rain and flying debris that
Came at us straight sideways as they say
Inside to cozy shelter, a long, dark tavern
With an old wooden bar and worn vinyl stools
Lit by candles burning and the occasional flicker of a match
To spark a cigarette of those hiding from the fury
We sat together and laughed at our world suddenly rolling by the window
Was that really a tree? Rolling down the road?
Where does so much water come from, rushing past us like a sudden river?
Thankful for beers still cold and a booth in the back, warm and dark
To hide and be alone for a moment
Or for hours
We spoke about nothing, really, just faced each other and held hands across
The sticky table, and drank without putting our elbows down, laughing
At the thought
When the winds and rains slackened, and the air seemed calm and safe again, we
Ventured out to find our way home, in a world I had never known before, as
The thick darkness was oddly lit by the sudden stare of the moon
Its eye not obscured by clouds, its gaze undiluted by electric lights
We picked our way over fallen pines and strange pieces of life hurled from their resting places
Winding and turning down strange roads, we found our way at last to your door, where
We fell into each other in the dark, no sounds at first, then
A million sounds, the sounds of breathing and the sounds of every living thing in the world
The dark world where light still penetrated, and
As I lay there I realized that
This was the way the world should be, but I knew that
When the lights and sounds made by man returned in a rush,
The world would never be this way again, for
The light of the moon cannot be seen except
In complete darkness

A Walk on Tybee Island

We walked together, on cold, packed sand
Salt air, turbulent crash, sky streaked
Pink, gold, orange, light melting into
The darkness of the horizon's floor
I ran into the cresting swell, knees buckling as
They jostled me
Down into a tumble and
Backward into your arms
As we laughed and screamed
Young and simple and unaffected, yet
Shy underneath the raw gestures of flirtation
Unsure
Rather than unafraid
As the light and color faded into a time of night when
Green waters turned gray
They called to us to stop our game and
Come inside to dry off and change our wet clothes
Scolding us and shaming us
To keep us from crossing a line too soon
We parted there, our hands separating
I think I remember that I knew even then that
I would not feel that way again, the feeling of
Excitement and uncertainty, yet
Safety and confidence that
You were the one that I wanted to walk with, there
On Tybee, where we never walked again together
Or met to ask questions, seek answers, or share one single,
Salted kiss.

Conundrum

Last night in the last hour
Before the closing of official business
A man told me that
The best things about me were
My intelligence, my wit and sharp acumen.
He went on to say this was tragic, because
The only thing a man really wants from a woman is
To push her face into a pillow and have her
Look good from behind.
He said, "You are a queen, and you deserve better."
But according to his theory,
I would be sorely disappointed.
I was unsure whether to be
Sorry for him or
For myself, for
When it comes to matters of the heart,
And of men and women and the tenuous strings that
Bind them together,
Sometimes,
The truth cuts far more deeply
Than a lie.

Deep in a Steel Canyon

Deep in a steel canyon, I walked for hours
Through a heavy blanket of mist, sweat, exhaust.
The air was so thick it took great effort to breathe
In and out.
My feet were encased in unyielding, hard leather shoes
That slapped against the pavement in pain.
My body was wrapped in a proper, gray business suit
That was unsuited to the unfortunate weather.

A phone call to my companion brought the welcome news that
Our day of work was done, the last meeting canceled.
So we parted on the street corner,
And I walked alone for blocks and blocks
Winding through crowds of gawking tourists, and
Rushing working people desperate to finish their chores
And escape the city for the weekend.

I was eager to explore the city, and drank every
Sight and sound and smell and taste
As if I had never sensed anything before.
I stopped at a salon to have the grime washed out of my hair.
I lingered in a giant department store, selecting
New shoes, new lingerie, new silk blouses, new skirts.
Everything new for the evening and weekend ahead.
I shed everything that had been on my body before.
Everything.
The air seemed to lighten, and the clouds began to part,
Allowing the sun to burn through the atmosphere,
Drying it and the pavement below.

I hurried back to my room to dress, then out again to meet a friend
Into the steel canyon, as the sun dropped behind the towers
And night's cooler, lighter air filled the vacancy
The mist had left behind.
and everything I had carried before, I also left behind.

It seemed a thousand windows and doors beckoned as I wound through the streets,
A thousand gatherings of chattering, excited people and blaring music.
I chose one, at random, and we entered.
A long, narrow, dark pub, filled with men and women
Relaxing after a long week of work,
Drinking beers and cocktails,
And leaning close to each other to be heard over the music.

Through the crowd, three men entered, and one, in the middle,
Caught my eye as he passed by.
And he looked at me, straight at me.
He and his friends disappeared in the crowd, and I
Turned back to speak with my friend, forgetting the tall, black-haired man
in the dark blue suit, with eyes that seemed to match
Impossibly colored eyes.

A half hour or so passed by, and my friend left for the ladies' room
And I, sitting alone at the bar, suddenly felt a mouth by my ear.
Whispered but shouted in the din, some corny line to break the ice,
And I turned to see his eyes, dark like the midnight sky over Aruba
Staring at me, and reflecting the flashing lights in the bar
Like stars.

He sat beside me and soon we were ignoring our friends around us,
Sharing drinks, talking, telling stories, then kissing,
His hands running up and down the skin of my arms, and holding
Sheaves of my golden hair, and saying things that
I realized I had been starving to hear.
Although deep inside,
I knew they might be lies.

Late in the night, we left the bar, and wandered back into the steel canyon
Surrounded by glass, and concrete, and smoke, and noise,
We walked, he and I, laughing and dancing in the emptying streets.
We came to his building, and walked up four flights of high stairs
To his tiny apartment, one that he defensively, proudly noted
Was large for the city.
The door opened immediately onto the bed, for apartments
In the big city are like that,
And there was no short journey into his arms.

Of course, even in a situation that was truly passionate,
There were moments of displeasure,
And awkwardness,
And confusion,
But overall,
To feel his thick, dark hair in my fingers,
And feel the warm down on his chest,
And to have his lips pressed against mine,
And to think that he found me beautiful,
Was enough.

Deep into the night, we slept in each other's arms,
Not just because the bed in the tiny apartment was small,
But because he said he wanted to sleep this way.
I struggled to sleep in the strange room,
In the strange arms, but finally,
His lips pressed against my hair and softly kissing me,
I did drift into sleep, a quiet night punctuated only by
The far-off sounds of taxis whirring by, and the soft snoring of my companion.

I awoke very early, for the morning sun managed to slip through
The maze of structures around his apartment and right into the
Kitchen window, which was mere steps from the bed.
I slithered out of his warm, pliant, relaxed arms to tiptoe to the bath,
And awakened him, only for a moment, and he teased me as I said I'd return in a moment.
The bath was spare, small, white, with ancient, primitive plumbing, and a bit cluttered.
As I faced the mirror, and splashed a bit of water on my face and sleep-blurred eyes, I breathed deeply, then looked down at the edge of the sink.
There, in a white, plastic case hastily left open the night before, sat
Two contact lenses, bathing in saline solution.
They were dark blue.

I sighed at the realization that my slumbering lover was a bit of a fake,
And then scolded myself, for I had touches of phoniness about me as well.
I saw him lying on the bed, and he looked up at me and smiled,
Showing a slightly crooked tooth I hadn't noticed before, but
The smile was welcoming, and he reached up with his long, muscular arms and
Pulled me back to the bed.
"More sleep," he said, and I pressed my naked back against his chest
And rested quietly while he fell back asleep.

Calm and content, at peace with the moment, I looked up to see
A framed charcoal drawing on the wall of the apartment.
There, a woman was lying with her back to the viewer,
Her thick, wavy golden hair falling over her shoulder,
Her figure hourglass-style, with curves and a rounded bottom,
Naked and soft and resting beneath the moon,
And a dark, star-filled sky.
I realized in that moment, that my companion
My have had fake blue eyes and a crooked smile,
And may have used corny pick-up lines, but he
Honestly thought I was beautiful, and that
The woman in the charcoal drawing,
Lying naked under the stars,
Unafraid to show her curves and flesh,
Was me.