Archive

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. Excerpt from Between buildings and boutiques.

Penelope.

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

Pink and concrete.

My pink petals, soft. I grow from concrete jungles, And smile when we talk. Excerpt from Between 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. Excerpt from Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.

Pumpkin spice latte, and a teddy bear's company.

Pumpkin: “Sigh…” Teddy: ‘Sup today, Pumpkin. Pumpkin: Oh, Teddy… Just another day of sunshine, laziness and humans walking by. And Pumpkin continues: Well, hello there, madame. Teddy: Turn me around. TURN ME AROUND. Pumpkin: She is here for me, Teddy. Teddy: Of course she is, Pumpkin. Of course she is… “Sigh.” A city cat’s friendship with his teddy bear is forever. Excerpt from A cat’s love.

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, unequivocally, should be my only worry.

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.