55 Fiction: Written Beauty

She’s a poem.  All women are poems.  Past, present and future.  Some rhyme and hold a direct structure and rhythm.  Others are as wild as their hair caught in the wind.   But they’re all beautiful in their own way.  A drop of water from a melting ice cube on a hot day.  Beautiful and irresistible.


Pretty Words From A Pretty Face

Her words are pretty.  She’s pretty too.  She’s got that kind of face that makes you want to kiss her whenever she opens her mouth.  I bet her lips taste like sugar.

There is a little bit of awkward in her.  Sometimes she’ll pause and fill her speech with disfluency words as she tries to put together a thought on the fly.  The entire time she’ll have her lips cocked in a smirk because she knows you’re hanging on the tip of teeth and the skin of her tongue.  Is it there on purpose?  Was it carefully manufactured to draw the fly into the spider’s web?  Or is it just her natural tendencies?

But her words pretty.  She knows all of the ways to sing you into oblivion.  She can pluck the strings of your harp as she recites the rhymes to carry you off of this world.  She doesn’t know the kind of power she has when she gets going the way she does.  Or does she?  It doesn’t matter.  I’m a sucker for her pretty words.

She likes flowers.  Bring her a bouquet and she’ll be yours for the night.
She hears voices in the wind.  They give her advice and turn her direction.
Don’t upset the wind as it carries great weight with her.
The sand between her toes is therapeutic, even if it’s in every crevice for weeks after.

She’s a bunch of mixed up colors on a palette used by children.  Jumbled and beautiful in a chaotic way.  Don’t try and make sense of her because she doesn’t make sense to herself, just let her live.


I had the oddest dream last night.  I think it was the truest sense of the word dream because I was actually dreaming and it was a dream in the sense that there is no way it will ever happen.  I dreamed that I was in a relationship with Kim Kardashian.  I KNOW RIGHT!

So, background, I have had an odd- well we won’t call it an obsession because it isn’t that but you know the infamous “list” of people you could sleep with if the opportunity ever arose?  Yeah, Kim is on it.  (Also Paris Hilton, shut up.  I don’t know either!)

I’ve thought Kim has been one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in like, ever.  Yes, of course there is the make-up and the extreme dedication to keeping only the best pictures of her as the ones that are seen but still, she purdy.

So, aside from that, yeah Kim Kardashian and I were in a budding relationship.  Weird huh?!  It wasn’t anything sexual though it was just kind of dating but in the current world where she is she and I am me.  It was very romantic comedy-ish in the sense that she would come over to see me in the “normal” world and it was overwhelming that people were star-struck and wanted selfies and attention from the famous person.  At the same time though everyone was so nice on her end.  Kris even made a cameo in my dream!  I believe Khloe was there too at one point.

We discussed baby carriers!  I KNOW!  I don’t know if it was with Kourtney or not but I distinctly remember discussing a baby carrier that has the legs straight down (bad) opposed to the ones that spread the legs out (good).  Another thing I remember is saying “my wife told me” when referencing which was the good way and which was the bad way.  So now I’m wondering, was it a secret budding relationship?  This is too weird.

There was another point where I told Kim that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, which I have thought at a number of occasions.  Other than that there was nothing specific I can recall, just a bit of her not feeling comfortable around all of the people wanting her attention and then the paparazzi wondering who I was.  Omg, I’m like dream famous.

Oh and I also didn’t want Kanye to find out!  We both didn’t?  Someone didn’t.

Anyways, I thought it was funny so I thought I’d share.  Funny as in the idea of it, not funny as in hilarious to read.  Sorry about that.


There aren’t many things in this world that can stop you in your tracks with an abruptness, yet remain full of grace.  Loud and sudden crashes assault your ears and you can’t do anything until you find the source.  A sweet smell catches your nose as you walk by and your face turns into a dreamed expression until it fades out of range.

A sunset.

A cool breeze on a hot day.

A gentle stroke of a fingertip along the back of your neck.

All of these have the ability to capture you in a moment and hold life from spinning further just for a few seconds.  You belong to them and nothing else until the world’s grip pulls you back.  But the moment I laid eyes on you the world shrieked in horror as it lost its grip on me.  I was yours and nothing could pull me from you.  Reality never felt so fragile, as if you could whisk it a way with the run of your fingers through your hair.

I had never laid my eyes on perfection before you.  I had witnessed it second hand through videos or pictures but they were merely legends told through modern story-telling that you never quite believed to be true.  There had to be some trickery or deception involved because perfection cannot be so common to capture it so easily, it should be the head poking out of Loch Ness or a blurry shot through the woods.

Fortuitousness kissed me as fate guided, playing together well enough to keep their arguments at bay until I found you.   You were muted.  The sun was told to keep its rays for everyone and not to shine a special brightness just for you.  You did not snap your fingers to cause all traffic to stop.  It was if your spell was only cast on me, as no other eyes paid homage to your perfection.

I could not look away.  I tried, but your pull was too strong.  Your gravity focused itself on me and mere mortals cannot resist the call of a Goddess.  I worshiped you as time sped by.

Even as my mind did not fully grasp the flawlessness of your form I soaked every tick of the clock in so my altar could draw images of you from memory and instinct.  When unmatched beauty is within your view you don’t let it fade away without burning it to the deepest parts of your soul.  Then, in moments just as accidental as this she will rush up like a crashing wave and swallow you again to her ocean.  Drown with her.  Submit to her current.  Feel yourself weighted down on her floors and pray.

Even as a writer I cannot fully comprehend her to words.  Even as a poet I lack the ability to do her justice in a sonnet or epic.  I only had her flash through my view.  I do not have the comprehension of beauty to fully express what I saw in her.  I do not speak the language of the sun and the stars that a Goddess such as she belongs.  I can merely use my clunky words and earthly expressions to honor her in our world.  To tell of a beauty so divine it shattered my soul that I saw her and will never lay eyes on her again.  To tell of a beauty that was so pure it stitched every shattered piece together again with the knowledge that some things are meant to leave us even as their pulchritude never wanes.

I witnessed a Goddess on earth.  She stood on the sidewalk in the sun, bathed in perfection.  All of the prayers I’ve never made were given to her in that moment.  Then she moved on from me and this world, fading away from light and behind a door to another plane of existence.  I am both better and worse for witnessing her, as the best things in life often leave us when they’re gone.