Archive

Curled up.

Sleepy girl, sleep, Curled up. I’ll watch over you, You nap. I’ll catch your dreams, If only they escape. Don’t worry, I’ll be here, Sweet girl, When you wake. A cat’s love.

Sit with me to sip slow a glass of red wine, last bottle from Portugal, Dão. Sweet, peppery-warm when I savor and swallow. Heating me, slow from inside, I feel my lips redder now, your eyes in ambient glow, ready now. Slow, until the candle wick no longer glows, we sit across imaging how this night might go, you are delicious, deep within your ambient glow. Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.

Duck derrière.

When the blistering suns of the Carolinas are bearing down on your shoulders at the noon hour, find haven in cool waters brushed by the Southern Carolina air. Where the peaches are juicy and… Alright, you know the rest. Cluck a duck, it is hot down here. Romanced by the South.

Duck in blue tone.

Duke.

Through sunlit window, I see you walk towards, Hearing the door, Close behind you, Closer to four, In the afternoon, in a city, On a Saturday, In the latest and hottest part of, June. He’s not here with me, and no mind towards you and me being here alone. The openness of you and he, fighting between carnal and care, an energy magnified by a 100°. You tempt wanting more, sometimes.

Every. Day.

Thought-provoking art. I value powerful art, no matter difficulty to see. I value everyone’s art, despite sometimes disturbing nature once you become understanding from the other side. No being has right to take life from another for self, enslave for self. Have we not learned this yet. Wherever our egos have learned this, it will never be okay. We remove ourselves from the sight, we look other way. We tell self we take care of pets - animal we deem worthy.

Falou.

Distante are you. Atrás de mim. Too far from me, From the words I hear you speak. “Close your eyes, mami…” Falou. You tell me of your love, From behind, And what you’ll do to me, In Porto, da mar. Endless sea, I hear you breathe. Closer now, mi amor. “Neshama sheli,” falou. Looking out, In between, Your feet now, I lean back into you, And a breeze, From Spain,

Forest and river.

Garment District.

Ginastera and tulips in b&w.

Ginastera and tulips.

Guitar and tulips.

I love you, When you smile while playing, Your guitar. Asturias, By Albéniz, With tulips romantic and bright, You gave to me a moment before. I love you, In the middle of the floor, Sitting and fading away into the, Afternoon, and into the, Landscape of you, and, Your kind of mood, Naked in your arms, Later on. Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love. … Visit archive for more writings and photographs.

Habibti.

Habibti, Where are you, I’ve been thinking a lot. Truth is, I cannot stop thinking about. You coming to me like that… Your scent, and those eyes, can never stop reminiscing how shades of green capture light. You and that perfume, bergamot and fruit under city night. I can still taste you on my tongue and in my throat. You feel so safe, ma. I share things in the dark with you, I share things while caressing all the innocent parts of you.