Archive

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.

Sea between blues.

Sea between blues, and, Periwinkle black delight. Sand tattoos our skin. I brush you off before city arrives, to my feet. I love you in quiet, I love you in noise, and I hold your hand when we walk through each. I remember you, Sea, in your bright and moody, Tan-toned coast on me. Excerpt from Between love poems and solitude.

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,

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.

Silhouetted feline.

In shaded sun, I’m gazing off nowhere. I like to visit often, My space, just sitting here. I look at many things, As they walk by, but, I’m most content, In my heart, By your left side. I will sit here for a little more, It is very warm. You may admire my posture, My beauty for a while more. Then I’ll curl up, slowly, Closer to you. Seducing you, insisting,

Silver lake.

Silver blooms from lake. Trees whistle a lullaby, I lie in grass blades. To wait for you is still and forever. I think before about this place. When you and me, we walk pass the trees. Making that sharp turn into the glow, where no one sees. I lie on you, in memory, on blades of grass as they cut me. Excerpt from Between love poems and solitude.

Soft water to touch.

I am in motion. Gliding in sync to the sun, Soft water to touch. Excerpt from Between love poems and solitude.

Sophie and mornings.

In sunlight by the piano, and next to me always. She sometimes will sing, accompanying me. Excerpt from A cat’s love.

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. Excerpt from Between buildings and boutiques.

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.”

Summer's symmetry in b&w.

Summer’s symmetry, Water sounds in sync to night, Illuminated. Excerpt from Between love poems and solitude.

Sunshine.

Husband, I love you, like, sunshine and the warmth it gives. I almost feel it pierce through me softly, from inside to the outer part of me, warming the fair hairs on my forearm and wrist. It makes me close my eyes, feel my lashes. And I think about how happy it makes me, to be here in this only moment, feeling it caress, brush across my first three layers of skin.