twice upon a time

unlike the Cinderellas and princes-in-shining-armor of my childhood,

a sort of love has found me in a wayward tower,

in no distress -- doing just dandily, thank you --

atop a foundation perhaps too firm, too barricaded, too secure.

now a second chance, this rescue is no longer a mere make-believe fantasy;

the storybook form of insatiable intimacy and infatuation

finally strokes tender strings left unplucked within a heart in remission,

and this sort of love scales uncharted walls for my attention, climbing to reach -- of all people --

me.

gone

The smile spread across her pursed red lips reveals

vulnerability, expectation, passion, ecstasy

Her searching hands find a pillar of strength,

between the arms that ease her descent to desire

The eyes she wades into, invite her to stay

but overstaying a welcome is beyond her capabilities

Thoughts abounding in a boundless ambition

paint her cheeks scarlet with secret lust

Whilst the warmth of his trembling fingers

is finely imprinted in her worrisome memory

Yet she is somehow left alone to watch her pillar make his way

back to self-restraint and responsibility

"Please," she bites her lip and pleads.

"Think," he replies as he prepares to leave.

This is the moment that she knows

it's bigger than them both,

as she peeks over the edge of desire,

and into a dark crater of still-unknown sin and joy

She considers the fall and calculates the risk

and decides he deserves not to be dragged along the jagged rock

But then he grasps her head, her neck in his calloused hands

and she realizes he's more ready than she

Staring fear in its face,

she finds security in the strings of a joint fate written long ago,

mulls over the recent past and present, forgetting the future

Giving in to him and happiness as she leaps into uncertainty.

heat lightning

He holds her hips between tender fingertips and she leans into the blanket of his body.
With her head on his chest, she closes her eyes and sighs for the life she can't let herself live.

When he tells her his truths, she bites her lip and avoids his smoldering stare.
He tells her she's beautiful and she shyly accepts the compliment from a sometimes stranger.

Making inches-away eye contact, her heart isn't filled with butterflies.

It's so full it could burst into blossom.

She later sits alone on the porch, watching the lightning in the dark.

And wonders why she can't let herself be happy.

Reality sets in....via my MacBook

There they were. Right in my palms, in all their shrink-wrapped glory. A rich navy blue satin gown and matching cap, with a gold and blue tassel punctuated by a polished golden “2011.”

It was beautiful.

But not enough apparently.

I had picked up my cap and gown at school, expecting some kind of out-of-body experience, or a sign from the cosmos, that sort of thing. At the very least, a hint of the realization that in a few short weeks, I wouldn’t have to worry about six periods of finishing next period’s homework, shuffling through hallways full of lust and angst, hiding my cell phone while I text “my mom,” or maintaining a 6.07 GPA and a resume that prompts colleges to foam at the mouth.

I didn’t feel much of anything, until I logged onto my e-mail account and clicked on my College folder. There, an homage to my scholastic dedication was found in “come to our school!!!” messages from the likes of Northwestern, University of North Carolina, Columbia University, University of Chicago, Notre Dame, New York University and acceptance notifications from four of the five colleges I applied to, including the one I chose, University of Florida.

It’s obvious I’m ecstatic about my choice to move to Gainesville come August. My little blue Civic flaunts a Gators sticker and a stuffed alligator hangs from its rearview mirror. Every day, I’m rocking an obnoxiously bright orange lanyard and, often, matching blue UF apparel. But something about seeing these other schools’ e-mails seemed so nostalgic, and I wasn’t sure how to feel.

I slowly checked the boxes next to their chipper subject lines, one by one, feeling bittersweet about what I was doing. I scrolled back to the top, paused, and hit the mass “delete” button, effectively getting rid of my once-potential universities, until all that was left was Florida.

I don’t want to say I teared up a bit at the notion that it is permanent, but that’s how I felt. I took a big breath, looked at the left-hand side of the screen, and clicked “edit folders.” I deleted the label “College.” And typed in its place “University of Florida.”