All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               She bit his lip, heat of breath through teethed light-hold in steady bursts upon his face; cradle of hands in hold to his cheeks, fixed-focus stilled to hers; close of her arms against her sides, bent, and forearms’ pin between their chests in bodies’ and blanket’s wrap; tighten of her stomach, crumple of its […]

               “Don’t you love the way when energy seeks you as you are?  Speaks from a distance, speaks through signs, recognized through spirit and eyes; and maybe it appears for all, but you know that it’s for you—somehow, some way, whether or not you can explain?                Don’t you?  I do.” _____                She read […]

               They loved with door and windows open, cool of linger from last March-storm reaching full into heart of room, gray of a mist and sodden sky that carried still the songs of birds in wake, and in center of the oaken home, they lain together in blanket wrap; cool of the storm, scents that […]

        She was beautiful in afternoon, in sky that overcast in cloud and moving in of front; that on the wind carried spring-scent and verdure’s awake to life anew.         Even the bare ground blossomed.  Before her, on patch of earth that saw no sun in summer’s shade, she smiled on miniature […]

        “Don’t you love the way of tree-lines in the spring?” he asked as they stared on sight of one before.         To him, they seemed of painted brush dabbed in yellow-green—hand mixed in course and haste that left vibrance yellow-bright in flash and standing out from rest—and blotted over brown […]

        Moments and memories lived, with her, he saved as still-frames in his mind.  Inner-adornments, in decorate of soul, he greeted in welcome and often for pleasure and enjoyment of their seeing: white paint of her nails on feet, equally fine and fair; the coffee they shared, pyjamaed or less, in share of warmth […]