All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               He went for run to rid a feel yet, even after, it remained.  She knew it in the way he fixed, in stare and see of all of her, tension and a strain, unfreed, even through the miles.                 She read his eyes.  She read his mood, way of his holding back as she […]

               “And the Lord smelled a sweet savour, and said: I will no more curse the earth for the sake of man: for the imagination and thought of man’s heart are prone to evil from his youth: therefore I will no more destroy every living soul as I have done.  All the days of the […]

               He shifted in chair, heartbeat again strong into her hold.  Loosen of wrap, and still its feel of pulse in set of her own in deep-heart match.  Forget of thought, only the feel in hold and sensing through, his heartbeat pace and rhythm of life.                Green and gold of her eyes in search; […]

               She found him again in story-write, strong in mind and risen sign-expression as they remained, still, in openness and naked show in heat of the two-heart fires.                She stared on his sign.                “Cabin fever…” he spoke in admission and humorous dismissal.                She laughed in confide, empathy and understanding.                “I get […]

               Through arc of sun and into rise and light of near-full silver moon, they wrote and shared, gave and made, in love and spirit of the two-heart flame.                Light of the hearth, crackle of flame, and heat of heirloom’s strong, low heat of burn, he shared and gave again.                Another story, another […]

        Her hands to his back of neck in hold, draw of his forehead close to hers, eye-to-eye then looking down centerline of her body’s curl and wide-cradled brace in taking of each pulse; eyes closing, tighter hold as flex and strength of body weakened, part of her lips, drive of her sounds; […]

               Outside, world was changing.  In full sunlight and sky of clear and open blue, snow melted fast in drip and patter song from roof and awn of home and limbs of the trees in wood.                 Finding no book that moved their spirits, they wrote stories of their own—romances composed and bursts and pause […]

               Weekend arrived, again they went to woods, to wilds: hidden home within the trees.                 In soft snow fall, they left from the city as dim of day darkened full into cloud-cover night of black.  They drove in headlight shine forward into black, snowfall’s sight small in the distance and large in pass, melting […]