poetry

[poetry] A Garden

To have a small garden with you, filled with flowers of all colors, blooms I’ve not used for love poems for anyone else, in any other time, that would be perfectly ideal. But the world is not a garden. Real life is a tangle of thorns, roses with berry canes and blooms. And I have done it all before, but not half so well as with you. Life is not simply a bouquet.

Healing Happens

I didn’t know what I neededwhen I stepped away.I took time to myselfto heal. There was grief over a dream(two dreams, really)after so much so muchfor them. All I needed was to knowmyself, my goals, my passions.To renew my lovefor love.

Loss

The marks on my skin are a testament of loss. My walls are covered in memories of them all. Each one important; each one gone from my life, from my world never to return. Never to be together. Forever. Alone.

Moon

It is clear from the tides that the sea loves the moon, but the moon must adore the salty sea just as muchbecause without the sea’s reflections, the moon would never know her own beauty. Without the tides, she would never know what it is like to be loved. Without the vastness of the waters, she would never know her own abilities. Thus, the moon and the sea can dance together happily until the end of the Earth without regret.

To Love and Be Loved

I wish to love and be loved with passion, with intention to give all I can and get what I give. I need to have enchanted time, flowing resources to visit the comfort of home when staying home simply won’t do. In this way, we grow together, entwined; we become something more.

Keep Me Here

keep me here. With your hands, Your mouth. Make it hard for me to get out of bed. Hard to think. Become my world, If just for a moment

Wishing and Wanting

I want to feelyou won’t hold yourself back–you won’t avoid all the things you want you need to knowI belong to you, my love–whether you can give me allI need right now I wish I could begood enough, wanted, sexy.you wish for energy, time, health todo right by me.

I Woke Up Like This

wantonly grinding against the mattress, wishing–hoping–for you behind mei can feel your hairy thighs tearing at mine–your fingers clawing into the soft flesh of my hips. my breasts take my weight as we(we? I mean I–you aren’t here, are you?)force the unwanted pillows off the bed.I breathe in the sheet, filling my nose with longing. Fingernails mark my hips. Teeth grab my shoulder.I push up, back, into you. Against you.My hand snakes to find the hollow under my hips.