I have no idea what that means but it sounds wildly open to interpretation.

It could mean jogging, or visiting museums, or hot oil wrestling, or gardening.

What activity do you need a partner for?

The exclamation point hit first
Before my little faint hope burst
Is it meant to convey surprise
Or shock
Or delight in my disappointment?
Of all three, I suspect them
I won’t rise
I will not be mocked
My time is better spent
In retrospection

The poems she wrote me
And yes, you can quote me
Still hit me in the heart
And in the blood
I remember waking her
With words of my own choice
I wouldn’t call it art
More an erotic flood
Buoying her up, taking her
To the shores of her own voice

I clicked on her name
She looked exactly the same
Then the screen went grey
An alert flashed on screen
To say she’s no longer
Around to be sated
Time moves us all away
It changes the memories, erasing what they mean
But never quite feeds the hunger

This user is deactivated.

Feeling that isolation and those paperwork chains here in the UK, thanks to jolly old Brexit.

When Mingle was just a website
I came here quite a bit
To create and spoil New Topics
With words that rhymed or didn’t

Most poems exposed my thirst
And welcomed the water bearers
Who came dripping
Into my inbox
Side rooms at parties
Under piles of coats
Messaging each other
To the desired effect

Friendships, activity partners
Intimate encounters
During the UK Olympics
And slightly beyond

Anyway, I’m back
Many years later
And all my old poems are lost
They were so good
I never kept copies
In case they were found
By my real life

Creative cost
Forgotten gains
The words are lost
The thirst remains

Got to stop those cars somehow.

Watering can at the ready.

Go on...

I run barefoot, bareleg, bareall,
Across a glacier I created in the desert
In the blue white heat of the midday moon

Small red birds flock with me
Humming in chords as the light,
The light plays havoc with their wings

My hair flies back from my head and grows and grows
Flies back from my back, from the backs of my arms
I am a prayer flag of silver hair that glimmers, and vanishes

I run to the edge of the glacier
Blue and cold, orange where it sees the sand,
The edge recedes away to not quite the horizon

I created the glacier, the desert,
The birds, the moon, the silver hair,
I created the edge I can never reach

And I run.

The now is good.

I don't know where this will go
Beginning fast and ending slow
As an old crow I'll fly straight to you
Through darkened skies or ones of blue

Look and you will find me
Find me and you will see
My eyes do shine of lust and greed
My body's field to plough and seed

The blood does pump within these veins
A heart of love but yet it strains
I fold my wings in bitter rain
This old crow caws and caws again

And swoops across the swaying wheat
To where the field and ocean meet
I alight upon his outstretched arm
Reeling from his pleasant charm

The silent wind has touched my face
Where gentle kisses he did place
My chest burns hot from deep within
My heart cries out to only him

His smile turns day to bluest night
And moonbeams glow as stars shine bright
He yearns for his woman far away
Though in his heart she will always stay

I rest my weary head to sleep
From sky through fields to oceans deep
And dream of when our lips will meet
Our bodies meld, our love complete

What comes to lovers on the fly?
What tie can bind a roving eye?
If love is blind, why do we look?
And by the cover judge the book?

For none shall scale that mountain high
If actions on the surface lie
The tether leashed you to the ground
Where shadows of our dreams are found.

Look toward me raven if you dare
In your future you'll see I care
If patience serves I'll see you there
From nevermore to neverwhere

As you wish, I will be your slave
And your love I will always crave
This love deserving to only the brave
I punch the heart, its life to save

Brilliant! You'll have enough for your own book soon.

Slainte!

You could just go to the store and try it on in the dressing room. While you're doing it, you can check yourself out in the mirror. :)

Lovely.

Excellent.

Sweet and warm. Like my tea.

It ain't over yet... who's up?

Very well put.

I agree - any mail is better than no mail. :)