Micah Park Biffle

    A Returning Love The aroma of tea tickles the air as I wake with the embrace of a morning sun. Stepping out of my bed tossing my sheets from their grasp. I make my way to the view from my window. The soft touch of snow had settled upon the grounds in the silent wisp of the night.   It's a spectacle to behold. A pleasure for the eye as the dim barren ground beneath it is no more. But I can't help but think of him. I can't help but remember his virile touch. How it gives me such comfort, such protection. His smile of ivory and his scent that raises me with elation.  Our time spent apart has been difficult but, he is living his dream, his sought after passion and how dare I ever be one to wish him to fray from it. All for the sake of my own need of him. We are both creatures that have clung to our dreams with great vigor.  Neither has left the side of our hearts and we are each formidable in our arenas. We shall never back down though many ni...

  Roman's Love    Out from the thunderous clouds he fell. Flames rage, enveloping his body like fiery winds. He his voiceless, motionless as he falls. Descending to the crust of earth. Falling from stars like a meteor sent for destruction.   Colliding with the earth at a wild speed he is forced through many layers of soil. Stones crumble, dirt flings, and hidden streams of water are revealed. His momentum is ceased after the resistance of earth becomes sufficient.   He now lays dormant in the belly of the earth. Hours go by before he becomes conscience of thought. He awakes in a mad jolt, as if rising from a nightmare. His body beads with sweat as his lethargic mind awakens. He stumbles to his feet looking up at a blue sky.   He looks to his body and feels himself with concern. He focuses his thoughts to where he may be. And how he has arrived in this unknown space. His hazel eyes dart about the cavernous crater his impact has caused.   H...

A Brass Heart   I reach for a pendant that hangs from my mirror. A pendant of her, a permanent photo of perfection gently placed in a small brass heart. I take it from the mirror and I open it, I carefully pinch the sides and the heart splits.  It opens to the vivid smile of what is gone. Today is the anniversary of her death, another day of grief. This heart, this photo is all I have left. As I look to it, I suppress the urge of tears. For I know she would wish me to keep going.  To grieve in the action of moving on. Of finding new memories to be created with someone else. But how does one move on from someone so close?  How does someone find another to take the place of someone you held so dear? Someone that could never be fully replaced. How do you not feel guilty as time ticks on and you hold the hand of a new love?  You know that is what they wanted, but how do you not let such thoughts sabotage the new things that come your way?  How d...