Cold Feb night

Cold February night, there’s nothing to do but to sit here by an empty downtown and smell the scent of China and amber. Ambrosia, amnesia. It’s all quiet on the hood ’till one drunk screams to the unknown and the train scathes on by. The chill is colder when there’s a couple walking together without

Him: Another night

Another night and yet again he thought about the wretched stripper that he loved who didn’t love him back. Her luscious hair, her sparkling eyes, the way she spun on the pole and walked with stride. The way she lifted her skirt and teased with her smile. The way she held his hand, to take

Him: He thought and thought

He couldn’t go to sleep the next night either. It was two consecutive days of feeling frantic. He looked outside his cage-like apartment window, and he couldn’t figure out why he was feeling that way. Was it because he was existing, yet no one was aware of it?Dying each day, yet no one was documenting

Hug you, adore you

Adore youhug you; nothing more, nothing lessfeel me feel youwarmth and doubtlove and losswounds and healinghurt and feelings In a dream I hadhug youadore you

I wouldn’t dream about you

I wouldn’t dream about youhad you not comeeuphoria about youthere in your lineswords entwinethey give in so much about who you areI couldn’t deny thembelieve me (my love)when I don’t say muchI say a whole lotplease excuse this complex…matter of where things are If you weren’t thereI wouldn’t dream about you

Thanks for teaching me a thing or two about love

Discovered at a young agefor whatever it mayfor your real wordsand your presencefor me being mefor all being all

Caress you

I want to caress youis that fine?Trace my fingers across your warm skinlift your shirttrace some morelooking at your eyesletting my heart talk and pour out I wanna heal youis that all right? Lost in the sea of your warm eyesa slow sweet demisefitcomplete I wanna hold youis that ok?And look nowhere else but in

‘I love you too’

‘I love you too’the somebody said to thin air

Love for everyone

You sitting, surrounding yourself by the fireworksthe love in his embracethe bighorn’s silent thoughtsthat is all I needthe look in Twinked eyesJet inquisitiveness

Him: With her

“Your story’s good” she said while blowing her cigarette up in air at the table with him. Across the table, he dipped his fries into the ketchup then ate it. She wouldn’t have believed that the only story that ever mattered to him was the one with her in it. ‘Hell, I don’t even need

Him: She wanted a teddy bear

She wanted a teddy bear. She drove him wild. She was the stripper whom he loved, who didn’t love him back. He recalled a story she told him about a time when she really wished for a new teddy bear, but her single mother couldn’t afford one. Now that he was making money selling sandwiches,

Him: I love depressed guys

“I love depressed guys” the stripper said as she stared at the club’s ceiling and smoked her cigarette, “They’re good at sex.”“Well I’m not depressed and I’m good at sex” he said.She turned to look at him and blinked her eyes, “You live in a closet, smoke crack at dawn, and have a disease” she

Him: He got a phone call

He got a phone call from the stripper he loved one night. She was crying on the other line, “I just need somebody to talk to” she sobbed. She told him how the guy she was seeing used her and left. How she had given him some of her hard-earned money, only to never get

I don’t know what’s real or not

I don’t know what’s real or notI know it’s realwhen you ate that orange with sheer delightand licked your lipswhen there’s a far-off tone to your voicewhen I heard your breath during sunrise It may be unrealwhen you dissipate from thoughts like the shifting of sandswhen you’re not who I want to hold hands withas

Promises and forever

‘Promises and forever’; he held her tightly, sitting by the steps. They posed for a picture together, his face next to her neck. Their smiles, content. It was fall season with cool weather, but his hold around her waist was warm. Wherever they went, he always held her dearly. He cared deeply. That’s just who

I love you with your colors, without your colors

I love you without your colorsI love you with your colorsblueyellow, like the sunlightunderneath the dust and the butterflieswhen you look at me the world shines in sheer brightnessthe feel of liquid over your lipsthat you wipe with your tonguecolors of pink and whitethat fizz over the ocean bluethat merge with the skies I love

Sweet surrender kiss

What girls were made to believea guy who knows it all, as he spins her in her pretty dressunderneath the falling ambiance within a globewhere they look at each other with hopeless loveforever Forgive me if I’ve broken several heartsit’s just that I don’t feel worthy to believeand don’t taunt me if I’ve stepped out

Special

The sounds of childrenthe prettiest of girlsthe innocent of boyswith hopes so bright The language of kidsso original and nicegives away the secretthat we’re all nice inside Our hearts, so transparentand only full of lovelike it’s been and supposed to benever mind the dust outside No matter what you doI’ll love you anywayI’ll look beyond

Straight shot love

Universe of your scentand your traceon the collar of your shirtand in your undershirt You stand under the spotlightplaying tunes from your heart;an embodimentof all things massive, masculine, and sensitivejust waiting for the right timeto give it all I watch youbut please take meI want some of thatanything little, at all The drip of your

No letting go

Free love

Echoes of your lovehits the surrounding wallsand travels like the speed of sounda winding path that never stopswhere we’re racing next to each otherlooking at each otherinstantaneous energy, infinite surgethe ability to soar like animals with wingswe turn into superheroesmy abilities, unlocked with your touchthere’s nothing ever stopping me now

Like a goofy boy

Like a goofy boy you smile helplessly your head tilted back, and your slightly uneven teeth spread about the sun rays are spinning while the world is spinning while you might be spinning who knows, everything is a moment; an euphoric joy that one cannot conceive Your laugh might be the only sound out there

It’s a circle

It’s a circle not just the physical orientation it’s a circle of thoughts it was the love that led to the love-making and then the love-making that led to love

Letter to Anais from Henry

August 14, 1932 Anais: Don’t expect me to be sane anymore. Don’t let’s be sensible. It was a marriage at Louveciennes—you can’t dispute it. I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous. Everything I do and say

Noticed that love is a wavering thing

In my years of living noticed that love is a wavering thing let’s fly while it’s high and smile at other times