To My Poet, I am a cursive body running laps on your notepad telling you the story of how we first met. I am the best type of tickle — a spark that lights your spirit, warmth — like the sound of good morning. I will be bittersweet — the first bite of a … Continue reading Ars Poetica
Linger I sleep at ease when the scent of last night stitches into my clothes. I breathe, and every past good or bad decision we enacted in moonlight perfumes the room. His fragrance envelopes me. The aroma cloaks and holds shapes: impressions left on the couch, incense coiling to the ceiling, the mint on … Continue reading Linger
On November 17th, I saw the future. In fact, I can almost see it coming again when I look at you with concentrated desire, and during those closed moments, you know. She says It’s fate. When the bodies bend like that, your souls mesh, they mate…There’s justice I tell her, Just not enough. And I … Continue reading Déjà vu: I saw the future.
There’s a rush that swells your chest and suddenly … Continue reading FRESH
The night sky was dipped in the same shade of ink that sets over us now. I remember the past effortlessly: the road unwinding, fatigue seizing me by the second. My fingers went scrambling for sound, fumbling one radio station after static until her voice transcended through the speaker to my spirit. My soul rejuvenized. … Continue reading Lunar Eclipse. September 27th, 2015. 10:47PM
your curves your curves can curse your curves curse in french and your hips are hypnotic hips hips that sigh as your curves cry out touchez moi touchez moi Continue reading Body Language
I believe that Wild Beauty is harvested in our hearts. We blossom in the blink of an eye, we sprout when our fingers rush along skin, tracing the blue roots buried below the wrist. I believe blue eyes mean diving into the end of the world; green screams opportunity; brown eyes mean stability in a … Continue reading Wild Beauty