Archive

Noise.

I love you the same as noise, quivering in a pattern of soft sounds. Then you intensify, in a vibration, coming on dark, moody and strong. Unique, the nights I look forward to, knowing the man you are… Furious, in love, and devoted to knowing you and me in all our naked forms. An understanding one seeks through a pilgrimage to Mecca, Guadalupe or Lumbini, and the Temple of Solomon.

Our talk, part 1.

My ear pressed to the phone, I can hear you breathe before you speak. Trouble and peace in an accent from the middle of two oceans between west and east. Your existence consumes me even though an earth keeps us so far away, our love separated physically most days, but tied infinitely by the heart. I always try to hold onto the memory of your face, you towering over me, your chest to grab.

Pink petals.

Pink petals are soft, Grow from a concrete jungle, I touch you and smile. Between Jerusalem and Mexico series, a taboo love. … Visit Archive and About for more content and author details. Visit me at jasminebyemoon on Vero.

Rain.

You drive off, into the rain, Knowing, The rearview will be, The last time you see me. This is the only time, again, We say goodbye. The goodbye, That is forever again, Because you break us, Somewhere inside. I know you are sad. Same, Inside my heart, Too. The part, Dividing me, Between him, And you. I know now, That when goodbye, Is said, To hold a breath, Between, That last word,

Sand.

Blue to the line drawn by sand, I’m drifting in Stevie Nicks’ contralto, wrapped in oblivion. You are pleasure, Sky. Your arrangement, bright to midnight, with sun setting to darkness all over me in amber orange. Dunes brush soft, my toes. You, heavy and warm across me, touching sun-kissed skin where the water stops, and you take hold. Your tight space, Me between, Ocean, And you, You, Swallowing me, Whole.

Ship, fall night.

Ship coasting into still sky, Slowing into a chilled, fall night, Black night with hint of wine, Cold howls, now, to stand, In a city, Waiting for fall to lie. Hear the horn from, Many miles, Away, to, Miles away, to, A mile away, so close, To here… Do I wait for you, or, Walk on alone. Or will you dissipate into, A ghost haunting a ship from, Many moons ago,

Silhouette in nude.

You love women, their architecture, design. You’ve loved them since the first moment you masturbated to thoughts of one, trying to recall every part of one. Your favorite, the mature kind. I remember you told me about the wife across the road, down the way, before you went off to war too soon. She’d let you watch her through a glass pane window, so you could learn where to touch, and then maybe practice some more later on.

Still of me.

Morning to sunset, The sun will come and go, And set on you, to, Think about, How you would, Warm me, when I am cold, And you are alone. If only to know your voice, In between the sweet, The black, The sky, The water, The bitter, And sitting with you. This would mean love, In a way that only, The moon, And the void know. Centuries from now, You will see me, vividly, Unknown to me.

Still reflection.

Loving you is to know, Fog between that space in between, You and me, and, In morning light, your, Still reflection safe in my harbor, Sailing in from night. You return as a lover would, Caring only about the sounds, Love makes, tracing, Soft lines to remember the, Details of me. Between Jerusalem and Mexico series, a taboo love.

Storm عاصفة...

Storm عاصفة… I remember how you feel, With your hands, Around my waist like that, Your thighs, Around my hips like that, Asking me, “Is this what in love is like?” Your voice, from far away, If only once, To hear again. “Hi, habibti.” “My Prince.” “I’ve been waiting to hear only those two words, my love.” “I’m here for you, Prince. To make every part of you feel whole.”

Street across.

On a table in between you and against a wall, somewhat outside, but not. You carry with you all intent of pulling me a part. Us alone, but possibly not. We’re shadowed by quiet, transparent walls within an empty hostel far. Not quite making it to the room, a few steps away, we stop under canopying arches and the tunnels cocooning us in. This moment has been thought through while on the plane, you admit, once your flight lands later on.

Su Casa.

“As long as I can see you, Know you for a while,” he pleas. You worry… Don’t worry, you’re enough. Just to know all of you, A young, sweet Prince, From the other part, Of an opposite globe. “Meet me at six, by the water.” Agreed. You distract me, Reminding me of someone. He struggled, too, With where, To be held by. The voices in his head. Another story. To walk, to talk,

Summer's symmetry.

Summer’s symmetry, Water sounds in sync to night, Illuminated. Between Jerusalem and Mexico series, a taboo love. … Visit Archive and About for more content and author details. Visit me at jasminebyemoon on Vero.