in the air

my love is in the air, tonight
because it cannot live on the ground,
it cannot risk being found;
because it cannot breathe beneath the waves,
lest it drown the life it saves,
and so, my love is in the air.

my love is in the air, tonight
clean and clear, it brings me life;
it will die by neither pistol nor knife.
weightless on the wind, it sails
through storms that rage, it never fails,
and thus, my love is in the air.

my love is in the air, tonight –
the stars and moon its friends,
the living darkness cures and mends,
for the day is cruel and loathsome, dead –
it makes a mockery of my bed
and so, my love is in the air.

my love is in the air, tonight
and ever shall it be,
where none but I can see.
hidden from the world, and you;
it is ancient, ever, new
and so, my love is in the air.

the general consensus of the sum of the parts of the whole

my body was made to love yours.
my eyes were made to see your smile, your tears, your every movement.
my ears were made to hear you, your whispers, your cries, your laughter.
my lips were made to kiss yours, to kiss every inch of you, to talk with you
and to love you;
just to love you.

my arms were made to hold you, to balance you, to keep you.
my hands were made to touch you, to hold yours, to connect us.
my fingers were made to explore you, to trace a map of desire, to play games in the dark;
all made to love you,
all made just to love you.

my legs were made to stand for you, to wrap around you, to lay entwined.
my feet were made to walk beside you, to run, to follow in your step.
my toes were made to wiggle, to tease, to just be.
every inch of them made to love you,
every inch made just to love you.

my heart was made to give me life, give me blood, give me breath.
my heart was made to love you –
from the very centre of my self,
to every part of me.
my heart was made to let me love you.
my heart was made to let me try –
and without knowing how or why –
my body was made to love you:
every part, every move, every day.
all made:
imperfect,
flawed,
fiery,
true –
all made just to love you.

Dangerously close

The only word that could describe how she looked that night was blessed. Her hair fell gently across her cheek as she gazed out the window onto the silent city; her eyes were wide open with a hunger and naivety that seldom dared to grace his presence. The women who frequented his place were iron and steel, but she – she was glass – and he was determined not to break her.

He knew what he felt for her wasn’t love, but it was dangerously close. With each sip of wine she took, her laugh become more like a song he thought he must have heard in a dream; a drunken lullaby, sung only for him. He felt so corse, so hard and gnarled when she’d visit, as if he was some crooked tree she’d sit under, forever unable to speak, unable to know her beauty, only to see it.

She must think of him much like that, he thought: some wise, old, sounding board whose main purpose was to listen – never to feel, or taste, or touch. There were younger, stronger men in her life who would do those things; men who could care for her and love her in ways that would preserve her and show her that, sometimes, everything can be okay; that spending every other day walking barefoot in the green grass outside the house that he’d build for her was perfectly normal. He hated those men – that man – the one he knew would put a ring on her finger that would make her unbreakable.

He poured himself another drink.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, her voice generous and soft in the night.

“I, my dear, am thinking about exactly how much I need another drink.”

*I wrote this on August 31st and am only now getting to post it. It’s a favourite moment of mine and it needed to see the light of day.

we’ll have forever

When the world has turned over
and when the dust has settled -
as it should -
and the clouds can clear away
from above where you lay,
there will be a promise of memory:
from every heart
that was touched by your smile,
and every hand that you held -
if only for a while.
And when the world turns again
when we meet once more, my friend:
we’ll smile and laugh together
and then we’ll have forever;
yes, we’ll smile and laugh together,
because then – we’ll have forever.

*Written July, 2008, in memory of Patrick Adams.

the straight line

There’s something to be said for having your priorities straight.

Will I?

Won’t I?

Should I?

…Could I?

If you could just have enough time, you could do it all: save the world, get the girl, live the dream, be yourself.

In a perfect world, we’d all have enough time; enough time to do, to be, to love, to breathe and give and know that we’d done it all right in the end. We’d have enough time to realize every dream and create every little piece of insignificant excellence we dreamt up in the early morning drunken stupors of our youth.

Some say there’s very little time. Some say there’s none; and to some, we’ve long run out. There’s something to be said for having your priorities straight – and for having the strength to hold onto that line for dear life.

love, love and darkness

*a brief introduction to what you’ll find here at fluidink:

“love, my love, and darkness
live and breathe together;
broken hearts,
decadent starts
breed stormy, heavy weather;
fight in the darkness,
grab onto the night -
love in the darkness:
do it once, do it right.
and when you’re addicted
you want, you need more;
you’ll know it’s possessed you
right down to the core.
you’ll never escape it,
you’ll crave it to the end:
love, love and darkness
live together, my friend.“

fluid thought #1: something you should know

Welcome to fluidink!

My name is Sara Inkpen, and I am the webmistress and creator or fluidink, which is a site filled with information about my life and my writing; making it easier for friends, relatives and even prospective employers to find out more about me and my modus operandi. This infoblog is made to grow and change with me, my employment experience, and my creative endeavors, whether it be poetry, prose, photography, plays, papers, or any other art form I might venture into.

Each art form/writing discipline has been given its own page that will morph and change with the times. The pages are as follows:

poetry: poetic license

prose: prose, ack!

plays: dramatic flare

monologues: single speech

papers and research: hide and seek

short stories: a short series of events

photos: pics and snaps

videos: moving visuals

visual art: moving stills

misc: etc.

Since the point of my infoblog is to find out more about me and my work/fun, feel free to comment on anything and everything you might find here, or contact me @ fluidinkpen@gmail.com if you’ve got any questions or issues.

Welcome to my world. Here, there is only one rule: be, and be happy about it.