Kate Kohler Expressions

Elevation, from Dangerously Beige

2009-10-01T13:11:00.000-07:00

Elevation ~ Dangerously Beige

It works magic with every sense

these gentle caresses in the night

a resolution to a long suspense,

enduring as your soul takes flight

With every breath a thrill, eyes closed tight

to absorb the fleeting feeling, so dense

and consuming. Arms flung wide to invite

its magic, working with every sense

Standing naked without defense

a fervent wind whispers moonlight

secrets of wisdom and innocence

these gentle caresses in the night

for one moment it touches your sight

breath coming quicker as you tense

and accept the answer in the twilight

a resolution to a long suspense

Anticipated recognition immense

on the edge of it, heart beating delight,

every inch of you alive, raw, intense.

It endures as your soul takes flight.

Soaring amidst truth and insight,

secure in this vast occurrance

your breathing slows as you alight

knowing, replaced by remembrance,

and its magic.

Voicemail, from Dangerously Beige

2009-09-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

Voicemail ~ Dangerously Beige

He calls me again, this one

whom I met only once, the moment

is vivid and my smile recalls,

his glasses matched mine, his sense

of humor and style harmonized.

I let the answering machine beep,

my skepticism and distrust attending,

then listen intently, and push play.

His voice again, delicious and playful,

his words performed for my senses.

Consonance to my ears.

He plays the game, they say

and I fear, his sincerity

may take second fiddle to flattery.

I take some time to return his call,

practiced at suspicion and guarded

with experience. It might be better

that he’s just pretending, I’m not

ready for seriousness. When I call

he has a conflict, and wants to change

our date. “Thursday, it is.”

We meet for coffee, drink too much,

sit, talk, and laugh with ease.

Time passes quickly, but we’re not

ready to call it a day. We get a bite to eat

and go see “Romeo and Juliet”

those foolish idealistic young lovers.

Afterwards we grab a beer and giggle

over youth, and impetuousness.

“Next time,” I say. Knowing it

will be soon. He calls again,

again the machine, his voice singing

over the buzz of my reticence.

I call him back quickly this time.

He has a blues band on his mind.

We go dancing and again share

the laughter and comfort. The sounds

of the music joining our counterpoint.

When our hands meet we can’t seem to

let go. After the listening , after the dancing,

we move to my house and drink coffee, again.

His kisses are lovely and to be held

is much sweeter then I remembered.

Next time he calls I will answer.