Museing

Your body takes my mind hostage. Undulations and curves, cascading sinuosity, the convex and concave. This is the shape and form of desire. Lust is fugitive. It bleeds beauty. It makes my eyes drink down my thirst with a stare. It pulls the breath from me; slowly like a contraction. Then suddenly with a gasp…

Dirty love and watermelons

There is only one way to eat watermelons: like you love – with abandon. “I’ll share my watermelon with you and only you. That sounds dirty but my God I like it.” No forks then, no knives, and no spoons. Bare hands eating. Only then. And only if. “Any other way to eat watermelon is…

Proof

    The crevice of my ear still carries the hint of your breath, shoulders bear the weight of bruising Your grip is stencilled into flesh, yet fingertips trace a trajectory of the spine with unbearable lightness A forensic nightmare, my body the whistle-blower of surrendered intimacies and forbidden trespasses The feral scent of our…

Love like teeth

I don’t think it gets easier. I don’t think distances seem shorter with time, or that time frets less over the miles. The further you get the harder I fall. The one thing that does change is the sound. Everything is softer, and quieter. Maybe love breaks the sound barrier. Maybe love flies so low…

Note to (your)self

To you who feel too much, loves too much, gives too much: I am one among you, and it is time to be proud of what you are made of, even if what you are made of is gullibility. To you who are moved too easily, fall in love too easily, believe too quickly what…

Sext – Four

Mere hours separate us now. Let this time of longing be sweet. Five excruciating hours between this moment where I lay in the darkness typing this and the moment you emerge from glass doors at the airport. Time takes on such a different quality when I am with you and when I am not. Time,…

How can you not return?

  Isn’t it just the truth that the places you ought to stay away from are the places you have loved the best? Ancient ruins, abandoned forts, haunted houses, and people. Some places you simply must not return to. Yet, return you do. It’s an itch you need to scratch. A boil that beseeches a…

A Journal of Undoing – Three

Ever saw someone who made your brain freeze when they smiled? Someone whom you couldn’t bear to lean on you in case they heard your hammering heart?   Hers is a beauty that loosens the flesh from my bones and makes its home in the canals of my marrow. Each time I saw her, an earthquake…

Unfickle 

Every night I coax my beloved to tell me again how she loves me. “I will never choose you,” she says with a steady and a voice that betrays only boredom. So many years now, but to my ears it still sounds as brittle as the breaking neck of a tiny bird. The mistake is…