Sunday, April 23, 2017

add to your wish list

i want to be the newspaper each morning
that you would read and despair of the state of the world.
i want to be the glass of scotch for your lonely evenings
drunk and forgotten the next day;
i would like to be the watch you wear on your hand
reminding you of being in the wrong place at the right time;
i want to be that song that you love
that always plays at the back of your mind;
the key that opens your doors
and allows you back in to the real world.
i want to be that one unfinished book
sitting patiently on your shelf;
i want to be your favourite movie, your everyday bag,
your gold-rimmed glasses that bring the words closer;
i want to be the pen, immensely treasured
yet lost somewhere in a moment of haste;
i want to be the idea that strikes you in the middle of a dream,
that no amount of cajoling will bring back;
i want to be the tears you spill at the death of a loved one,
precious, yet useless.
i want to be that joke you tell everyone;
that forgotten t-shirt at the back of your closet,
the familiar parking space, the habitual end-of-the-day cigarette;
i want to be the stamp that you lick,
before sending me off somewhere.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

eastern lights

he is fragile.
easily scared, difficult to convince.
he takes a leap of faith every day;
he wakes up, ready for battle, 
ready for Valhalla to witness his soul.
but he scares easy.
he smiles, but doesn't let that bother his darkness.
sometimes,
he lets go. 
he closes his eyes, and believes in the blue of the sky;
he blinds his worries for a few moments,
for it only takes a few minutes for roaming hands to find their treasures.
he puts his world aside, and steps, ever so slightly, into mine.
he tests the waters; 
it's not the cold that bothers him, it's the ripples. 
he wants to be invisible.
i would trade in my wings for it, he says.
sometimes, he forgets
where he is, what he does, what he wants, and what he doesn't need.
he forgets to be polite, he forgets to hold back.
he is easily scared, but his laughter escapes him;
only for an instant.
and when he sees the world erupt in a blaze of love in her eyes,
he suddenly remembers to close the curtains of his soul.
as if an intruder had walked through your house,
disturbing nothing, and yet,
the air has been moved, and it's uncomfortable. 
he commands his eyes to look away from her,
he begs his hands to stop, he implores his heart to breathe slowly.
and then he disappears. 

he waits, patiently reminding himself to be wary.
he keeps careful vigil; he watches over her,
even though she has asked him not to. 
she waits, her skin warmed in the sun of his universe,
knowing it will take three days 
for him to resurrect. 

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

difficult

That's it
Right there baby
Go ahead
Don't be shy
A little more
Harder
Oh no
Yes
Slowly, take your time
That's beautiful
Oh darling
I can't take this anymore

We made love,
Even when we were fighting.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

It is true

my eyes hurt, exhausted by your caresses
my shoulders are heavy,
from the weight of your dream.
my fingers are tortured, from the feel of your skin
my hips are in agony, from the thrill of your lips.
my thighs ache from the burden of your look.
my mind cries, from the cut of your smile.
my heart burns,
from the fire of your love.