Pictures Drawn by Shadows of Phantoms of the Night Before

I'm surrounded by the girl I slept beside last night.
Her hot breath on my face.
Her light hand on my chest.
And our legs tangled like spaghetti.
Which is to say, I was not uncomfortable.

And this morning, when her lazy lids opened, the weak sun was sucked into her dark eyes.
Brown, like rich seas of melted chocolate.
Deep, like prehistoric tar-pits jealously holding the bones of lost behemoths.  
And black, like her heavy frame of hair.
Look, these eyes were dark okay? No two ways about it.

But now I'm down in the kitchen, hard at work, and the strangest thing...
She's all around me still.
The drab words on tins of food are now in her handwriting.
The songs on the radio are all sung by her.
It seems miraculous, that this whole fucking trashy world has been transformed into the girl.
Try to see it; not like, but exactly the same.
The pitch black interior of the oven is woven from her inky hair.
The harsh white tiles on the walls are her perfect teeth.
And these freshly baked rolls were made from the pale skin of her arms, the dark skin of her face.

I mean, beauty subverting the mundane, every line of every shape familiar and nothing but the best.

Except the blues and greens, this girl doesn't do blue or green you see.
Nope, they don't remind me of her, but of her absence.
The ripped empty space she leaves behind.
Which starts off small but grows every day till it fills every room.
Like a bear-cub kept in a council house, y'understand?

Okay, so the feeling fades and world creeps back over her facade.
And the buzz and whine of customers and workmates begins to wear at me.
The sun goes down and the shadows look nothing like hair.

But I can't help smiling at the idiots crawling all over me, because I know...
I'll see her again tonight.



(c) Written by Spider - November 1999

True Love

Dependable. Resilient. Unconditional.

To love someone is to support their passions; to be in love with someone is not only to back their passions, but also to admire them to the point that their hunger for them motivates you to be just as hungry for yours.

To love someone is to share all of your thoughts with them; to be in love with someone is to share all of your thoughts with them, and when you’re not with them, to see them in every place you go, think of them with every person you meet and feel them in every scent you smell.

To love someone is to feel warmer in their embrace; to be in love with someone is to feel warmer in their embrace and subsequently desire to please them any chance you get because you have just as much a fervor to physically express yourself with them as you do emotionally.


* Information borrowed from a forgotten online source *

A Lecture on Lust versus Love

An excerpt from Venus and Adonis written by Shakespeare

"'Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;
Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;
Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies."