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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.

Part 1: Between buildings and boutiques.

Between buildings and boutiques, concrete under my feet. Holding hands, the shadows ask, are you sure. I am wondering is your heart racing a lot. Closer to a forbidden door. Diagonal, black lines from the sharp angles and walls, cross over me. Your grip tightening around my hand, tighter than before. Your pace faster, amor. Are these buildings taller now, or, You making me smaller now. Close you are, Amor.

Part 2: My world, I see.

Through a window, my world, I see. The pace of everyday, and into the underground as you devour me. You against me, Me against glass, cold and, Pressed, and, Unforgiving. You say, “Ma, you’re too far away.” I’m pulled into the dark, Deeper now. Inside, lingering on my ear, with your thumb on lips, holding my mouth. And your hands move everywhere. Telling me, “You go nowhere. Understand.” I see all the world,

Part 3: Intermission.

If we go downstairs, To sip and stare, You at me, and me at you, And without care. Will everyone know. Dark rum, under the string lights, Glow. And the red flower, Sings her nocturne. Not alone. Between buildings and boutiques.

Penelope.

I understand, Penelope. I, too, am lost in my own shadow sometimes, walking by daisies under the sunshine. Love poems and solitude.

Pink petal stem.

My pink petal stem, Surrounded in dew. A violet, dark night, I succumb to around me, With white twinkle lights, Dancing around me. I blush for you. Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.

Pink petals from concrete.

Pink petals are soft, Grow from a concrete jungle, I touch you and smile. Love poems and solitude.

Pumpkin graveyard.

Pumpkin graveyard born. Indigo sky hides in dark, Mood, my blades, and green. Love poems and solitude.

Purrs.

I’m trying to write a romance, With a cat nuzzled by my side. He really isn’t much help, This cat, With any storylines. He comforts me, Sleeping affixed. After scheming, To be next, To my left hip. He probably wonders why, These humans are, So… Hot and bothered, Vexed, Turmoiled. His head cocked in one direction, “Aren’t I enough of a love story?” From a feline, Whose existence, He thinks,

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.

Rooftop naps.

Life of a city cat. Naps on the rooftop, with the breeze passing between row homes and buildings, and mama close. A cat’s love.

Rose red.

My unfurl in sun, Your stem a jagged thick thorn. Rose red open full. Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love. … Visit archive for more writings and photographs.

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 coasts into still sky, Slowing to the chilled night, Black with wine. Cold howls now, to stand, In a city, Waiting for fall to lie. To hear the horn from, Many miles, Away to, A mile away, to so close, Now here. Do I wait for you, or, Walk alone. Will you dissipate, reappear, A ghost haunting a ship from, Many moons ago. I am trapped here, A soul loved,