as Woman

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as Woman.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I wrote and posted this a year ago – and as every year passes, I believe it more.

 

Dark Star

 

This will burn out

one day

leaving a dark star

in her heaven.

 

A constant reminder

of the pure white light

of his adoration

forever lost.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Provenance of photo unknown. Please advise so I can credit

 

 

As woman

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as woman.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Pier Toffoletti

 

Shut

I am a sensitive soul.

Perhaps too much for a man.

I sigh at beauty. I am enchanted by charm. I can get lost in a look.

I cry at sad movies, often glad of the dark.

I am a romantic, Sad songs in my ear buds. Black and white films in the winter. Meetings in steamy window bookshop cafes, walks by the swan-gliding river, dinner in the flickering light of whispering candles.

A message on my phone that ends in a kiss.

I am a dreamer. A poet. Someone who will never forget the press of her lips.

And sometimes, only sometimes,  I am a fool.

Yet for all that, if I am hurt, I can become as hard and as cold as a Siberian frost.

And the doors to my heart

Slam

Shut.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

 

Same sky

I am infatuated with her.

It is an utterly futile, forlorn, hopeless, foolish, insane, fruitless, delusional, mindless, childish, senseless, vain and completely pointless infatuation.

I should shake my head, shrug my shoulders, button my coat and act like the grown up that I am.

And yet, wanting no more from her than she would ever be prepared to give, I am strangely content.

I am happy knowing she exists beneath the same sky.