Lunar Lullabies from a Silver Siren

Poems, short stories, and musings from the lady known as Silver.

Universal Truth

His finger lifted, and my eyes struggled to see where his gesture would lead. They lifted higher in the dim twilight, past a few flecks of light on the deep color of the horizon. It finally halted, and I smiled softly.

“Every time I see it, I see you,” he said softly, the night breeze carrying the words towards me before they could disappear.

We stood there, close enough to touch, the warmth of the summer air around us and the humidity breathing moisture left over from showers earlier that day. My fingers tingled, butterflies dancing on my sensitive skin rather than settling in my stomach. I wanted his hand in mine, but we both knew our boundaries. Some things, when started, could never be stopped.

A thick crescent, the moon poured down light, and I looked over at him, his head tilted back slightly as he looked to the night sky. Not at all the person I expected to stand here beside me at this moment in time, but perhaps that made it all the sweeter. Something I hadn't asked for or even thought I needed. Still, I wasn't quite sure what label to put on him.

“If I am the moon, then what does that make you?” I asked him.

He looked at me, and his expression caught me off guard. He'd always been so readable, his lips quick to smile or laugh, his eyes full of whatever emotion he felt. In that moment, it felt like the entire weight of his existence and mine, the power of it forcing my heart to race as I relived our shared past with him. The laughter, the tears, the joy, the sorrow, the affection... How could so much be conveyed with a glance? Still, he managed to do so, his features finally settling into that soft, fond gaze he always seemed to have for me.

“Well, I'm definitely not the sun,” he laughed, running his hand over his head. “I'm not bright enough for that.”

He shot me a look just as I parted my lips to say something, closing them reluctantly. A bad habit of his, and sometimes I wish the humility was false.

“Then you are the earth,” I replied. “Holding me in close to you with your pull, letting me influence you as I may.”

“So you'll always be just close enough, but never too close, huh?”

The words stung a little as most of them tended to. Truth always seemed to have a bittersweet flavor when he fed it to me.

“For now, perhaps. But all it really takes is for something to shift...to change... and who knows what the future might bring.”

Our eyes met once more, briefly, since I knew I probably couldn't stand to see what was there. All I really wanted at this moment was to keep standing here, the moon slowly dancing across the sky with its celestial entourage. The only thing that was missing was his hand in mine.



Happy Hour Revisited

These days I come bathed freshly in moonlight
Since our rendezvous seem to get pushed back
Later and later
Perhaps the liquor tastes sweeter because
Of the wait
Fewer drinks only means that
Each drop is to be savored all the more and
The burn is that much more intense
As my body is not quite so used to it
These days
Your flavor fills my senses
Coursing through my being
Humming through my body
Such a sweet fire
Such a slow burn
The only question is how much to indulge
Quite often I find that
The pain rising up with me in
The morning is
Worth the ecstasy of the night.

Jannae

"God is gracious" - Hebrew

  • she can be outspoken at times
  • as independent as a bird
  • a woman of graceful movement
  • an individual who follows up on others
  • loves the excitement of the challenge
  • a most capable warrior
  • exploring things keeps her going
  • has an adventurous spirit.

Words from my Soul

One day a long time from now. I will be sitting quietly somewhere. The lines of time etched on my face. Everything that we shared... mind, love, and soul. As a smile stretches across my face and dances in my heart. I will remember you.

Glassless Window

Their eyes met over the line of books on the shelf, and the first thought that went through her head is that she wish her hair was the color of his eyes. A deep, rich brown, staring back at her, the gaze inquisitive as much as it was surprised at this unexpected intrusion into what must have been a private moment. Her fingers brushed the top of the book she had been reaching for, knowing she should continue her search for a new addition to her library, but unwilling to be the first to break the contact. In that moment, it seemed to her that doing so would cause something to crumble, to shatter before its due time.

His eyes narrowed slightly, now considering her as she did him, and she could see the emotions floating across his face as they must have moved through his mind. Such an expressive face in a world where revealing one's heart led only to heartache and sorrow. A smile, a giggle brushed her lips, mirrored on his face a second later. Though soft, the sound rang through the still shelves, and she found herself turning away, instinct controlling her body as a flash of embarrassment flooded her senses.

Even as she recognized the moment for what it was, she felt ice slip through her spine, settling firmly in her stomach. Her eyes turning back up towards the small window, he was already turning away, making his way down the aisle. The spine of the book felt rough to the touch, her hand dropping to her side as she considered the situation. A word, even a touch could restart the moment, save something from the crackling pieces of the moment. One step, two, three...

Her feet carried her to the end of the bookshelf, her eyes shooting to the left to see where he had gone.

"Daddy!"

The beautiful little girl ran up to him, his arm catching her up and holding her to him, the love evident between their faces. He glanced over his shoulder, their eyes meeting once more, the apology clear. But what did he have to apologize for? She gave him a final smile before he and his daughter walked away. After all, it wasn't every day that two souls had such a memorable encounter so suddenly in the fantasy section of the local book store.

Not Alone