Archive

Pink mood.

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.

Port city.

Purple mood.

Purple sky over a port city.

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,

Romanced by the South.

I am romanced by the South. Where the South Carolina peaches are juicy and the sweet tea overflows. Where a gentleman’s hospitality is in abundance, like, Moses parting the Red Sea whenever a lady approaches any door, from the left side, the right side, and down the middle. Where lyrics about his dog running away and his woman coming back are heartfelt, and heard through every speaker. And where a little green gecko has stolen my heart.

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,

Silver lake.

Spring mood.

Original composition and audio.

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.