Fly, My Love

As my dreams evaporate in the morning, you, my lover, are the star shining brightly in the darkness like an angel from the heavens.


Your skin pulses with an electric radiance, drawing me like a magnet.
Your scent is so alluring, it makes my head spin and my heart pound.


When you touch me, I meld with the universe. The world stops spinning and the very fabric of existence acknowledges our connection. I can't stop touching you. My fingers ache to roam all over you, my body yearns to absorb your warmth, my ears long to hear your heartbeat.


When you look at me I can't hide behind my mask or beneath my fear. They all fall away, crumbling like dust at my feet. You see me, you expose my soul.


Foreign hands have touched my body, and like armor I have resisted them, even despised them. But you, my angel, have reached inside and wrapped your strong fingers around my heart. Can you feel it beating against your palm?


I can't look away, your gaze has ensnared me, hypnotized me, possessed me. I see you in every face, I hear your voice in every song, I feel your touch in every note. All else is imitation. All else pales to your consuming fire.


Spread your wings, my dream warrior. Wrap your strong arms around me. Kiss me. Hold me tight. Fly, my love, fly. I am yours. In my dreams you are mine. We are one.


I hate to open my eyes. I hate to say goodbye. When we separate, my world once again dims, my armor weighs me down, grounding me. I long for you. I become lost, unbalanced as the world begins to spin once more.


I love you, angel of my dreams. Fly, my love. Fly back to me.


~T.L. Gray

Eyes That See

Eyes that see - I love to look into your eyes, yet fear it at the same time. 

Those dark orbs are full of truth, full of knowing, full of fire.

They see through me, past my mask,  and straight  into my fear,

Exposing my deepest hope, my greatest dreams, my darkest regrets.

They intrigue me.  They inspire me.  They see the truth of me.

But do you see it, or do your eyes only reflect the truth back to me?

You have eyes that see everything, even when you look at nothing.

I’ve tried so hard to hide - my mask is elaborate and hand-carved with great detail.

I’ve spent a lifetime adding thread  by thread, bead by bead, scar by scar,

Garnishing the perfect elaboration, building the perfect distraction.

But can you see me, or do your eyes only reflect me back to me?

I’ve looked into many sets of beautiful eyes,

And they have shown me the splendor of their hosts.

But in your eyes I don’t only see your beauty, but mine.

The first time I ever met their gaze it felt like the foundations of the earth shook,

My knees wanted to bend in worship to the god standing before me.

One glance and a fire ignited deep into my bones.

I’ve tried to run. I’ve tried to hide. I’ve tried to ignore and to deny.

But can you feel me too, or is the fire I feel my own passion reflecting back to me?

Eyes that see - will you look at me and tell me the truth?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Strange Love

I tend to separate my life into three different phases.  There was my childhood where no one ever hugged me or told me they loved me; showing healthy affection just wasn’t something done in my family.  Then there was suburban life filled with family and faith and was hugged and told I was loved almost on a daily basis.  Then there is the phase I’m entering now.  I call this phase the “Me” phase, because it’s the first time in my life I’m able to focus on me, where my wants and desires take center stage.  The biggest part of that focus is love – for me and others around me.

Over the last couple of years I have made a lot of new friends.  This motley crew mainly consists of people who share my greatest passion… writing.  I believe I’ve made these connections because these artistic creatures understand me better than any of those who’ve surrounded me before.  With them, I get to be me – not someone I’m expected to be, and I love them for that reason alone. 

I don’t have to know a whole lot about them to know I love them. They stir my heart, stimulate my mind, and love me just as I am.  Whether I learn anything else from or about them, in my ignorance I know I love them.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Pure Notes

I've been inspired lately by my Muse to write a few pieces of flash fiction ...and this is one of the results.  I highly encourage everyone to dabble a little in all forms of writing, regardless of your preferred genre, style, etc.  

I believe that if you only surround yourself with like people, like surroundings, or like influences ...you will lose your individuality and become like ...  

Pure Notes

The winding path beneath my feet is not made of yellow brick or paved asphalt, but earthen clay covered in autumn leaves.  Tumultuous shadows loom behind me, and bare limbs reach out to grab me; to entangle, to ensnare. Chilled winds of uncertainty nip at me, making me shiver.

Bits of sunshine cut through the thick canopy above me, dotting the road, baptizing me in its glory and praise, but its warmth is fleeting. One step away ...once again in shadow, two ...more sun, three ...more shadow, but never sustaining, never sure.

Whispers echo through the pines, those evergreens, always in season, always the same in a forest of changing colors and varying scents. "Come, come," they call, offering a home among the woodland, the accepted majority, kings and queens of their kind. The path is narrow; the limbs push and pull, defining familiar trails.

Into the foggy haze before me, a part of the road lay hidden in the unknown, cloaked in obscurity, and masked with uncertainty, I hear a soft melody. Its rich tone entices me, pulls me, and seduces me with each pure note. My Piper sings to me, "Come, come!"  I long to obey, to fall under his spell.

The Pines, the Piper. A raging storm ensues. The Pines, the Piper. Calling, drawing, making me dizzy, and twisting me in knots. "Come, come," they implore. Spinning me round and around, entangling bits of my hair, ripping parts of clothes, slicing into my skin, till I'm nothing but a ragdoll.

I fall.  "Come, come," I whisper through swollen, cracked lips. "You've taken all I have …sans my heart."  Hot tears shimmer down my cheeks. "Come, come, if you dare. Who will save me?"

The Pines remain quiet, stiff in their pride, but in the distant a single, pure note weaves through the forest. My Piper comes. He appears out of the fog, followed by a gay crew of revelers. He stands before me, holds out his hand, a smile tugging on the edge of his lips, and says, "Come, come, my Lady, let's dance."

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