Bells
The soldier rips opens the door,
Softly the boy cries into his mother's skirt,
Her purse is torn to the floor,
The contents don't spill.
She stands resolute,
"Endure" written in the freckles she loathed,
The boy observes,
The boy endures.
The soldier exits,
A night so brisk the car is forgotten,
He spins effortlessly,
Red, wrung eyes obscured by his own reflection,
An icey blue comes into focus,
His gaze is fixed, but the blue is a blur now,
The car is gone.
A purse returned to an arm,
A thumb below an eye, a smile wide,
Warmth in its truest form,
The chill lingers.
His gaze is fixed on the pane of glass before him,
He's lost in the blur, the world is fuzz,
He welcomes the hypnosis and falls inward.
Her brow furrows as she wipes the tears,
She strokes his face, he is cold,
"Sweetheart" she whispers,
She wipes the hair from his eyes,
Frozen, instantly.
He’s in a quiet meadow,
The green bloom of summer floods his vision,
His cheeks dry, his chest no longer constricted,
Wind sweeps the tall grass,
“Home”.
Pebbles dot the muddied path before him,
Smoke rises from the cottage coming into view,
He smells the souls around him, salt drying his lips,
He is running; faster than ever before,
His heart is full to bursting.
Quaint, and disheveled, the cottage cried for him,
Ivy webs draped the stone; wild flowers sprout from the cracks,
He steps onto the porch, and hesitates,
Inches like miles between his hand, and the door.
Knocks ring hollow in the cottage,
He is disappointed, and steps back to the path,
Gulls beg him to join them,
The shore a short distance off; a siren stares out.
His legs move before he can think,
Struggling through the sugar sand, he calls out,
She is the rising moon; white, and silver soaked,
He is lost on her, his will bends to her.
“Bells!” a name unfamiliar, but spoken a thousand times,
Her focus shifts, her gaze meets his,
Ecstasy like flames in her eyes,
She explodes towards him, throwing herself into him.
His heart leaves bruises on his ribs,
Jasmine oozes from her, his senses are overwhelmed,
She is delicate, the finest luxury known to man,
“Jack” she sighs, relieved.
She wells inside him, digging deeper and deeper,
Elation couldn’t describe his sensation,
There aren’t words for this, but “Jack” lingers in his mind,
Who is Jack?
He looks down at his hands, rough, and scarred,
He towers above her, how does he tower above her?
Clothing unfamiliar, unlike anything he’s seen before,
Her nails dig into his scalp, she draws him in.
Her lips bring him back into focus,
The sand collects on the toes of his boots,
Her toes snuggle in,
“Home”.
"Home" he mutters, tears flowing freely,
"Sweetheart?" she repeats,
His eyes are fogged, he stares beyond her still,
"Sweetheart!" she is begging,
The fog clears, the world is in focus,
He is exhausted, he is lonely,
He looks saddened, staring deeply into her,
"Home" he mutters again, unsure of meaning.
"Soon" she soothes, his small frame wrapped into her,
He rests his head on her shoulder,
"Talk to me" she begs him,
"Where have you been?"
Her perfume nauseates him,
He pushes her away, but she draws him in closer,
"It's ok sweetheart, tell me where you've been",
He opens his eyes to darkness, a blank slate.
Sea salt, freshly baked bread, and herbs,
"Home" she coos, sitting next to him on the bed,
He pushes himself upright,
She lightly presses against him, delivering the bread to his lap.
"Jack" she whispers, tracing lines on his chest,
"Jack" she repeats, smiling to herself.
He's taken with her; the inquisitive looks, the love that oozes from her every pore,
Her waved hair falls through his fingers.
She nuzzles in closer to him,
Her legs weave with his, restricting his movement,
Not that he minded, he wasn't leaving this time,
Her skin shone, and sparkled from head to toe.
She smelled of nature,
Smelled of sea,
Smelled of jasmine,
Smelled of Home.