…the russian spy, spying my eye. spying my heart for a start anew. her eyes, her hair, daring me to plunge inside of her at the speed of light. i might, seeing her beauty, truly shining through the dark like a heartbeat starting to seep deep green into my soul. on the whole she make me smile, for a while or maybe more. i implore her of her story, in me, outside of me, cruising for a soothing of her heart. in formality i’m falling deep in love with another…not another cigarette kiss….but a morning toast christmas wish list of twinkling presents in her whole eyes…her, she, we…daring to split the soaring sky so high of implorable impossibilities, and she….so perfect in her style and smile…lilting my spirits into a fervor of dance even the elves couldn’t match. just edging the corner of our relationship’s twists and turns. i speak of the russian spy in my eye with her glances for chance at enlightenment of temperament. she came to me like a flash in the night, afright with how hard my heart may fall for her that night we met, like she was sent from the spirits on high. this big bang soaring across the vacuum of time and space just to see her turn and face me. i facing her. staring…wondering if this could be something. like silt from sand she demands my graces and spaces my smiles like dominos falling one at a time, cascading my being into seeing something more than pain. my refrain calling her to come back home. come to me and dance…dance girl dance…like this is all we have. let me hold you and mold me into a sculpture that will rupture my past and let me lay you down like a fine cloth, so soft her grace and why. i cry at the thought of not seeing her posture every day, time separates and debates may re-rake the takings of the hourglass, but lets last. let’s make something more whole of this. twist and shout about the love you found amidst the fight…this night, this day i will pray for her swaying hips, her giggle to be the squiggle in my eye. i give breadth to her composure and bow at her altar of her supposition and grace. this face has my heart in a headlock, crying not for air but to die in her arms. to fight inside her battle. to live inside her life. my wife. my…gahhh….
