-
the reason you're in the world.
You're an illuminating anchor of leagues to infinite number, of crashing waves and breaking thunder, tiding the ebb and flows of hunger. You're dancing naked there for me. You expose all memories; you make the most of boundaries. You're the ghost of royalty imposing love; you are the queen and king combining everything, intertwining like a ring ( Read more... ) -
my half note on you
What about our kisses in the kitchen, the picnics in the park, all the promised adventures beneath our invisble made-believe cloak. What is that emotion that gathers when I breathe in a wisp of your scent: that I love you one whole. I theorised equilibrium as you warm, along me, sleepless and dark. Mostly your silhouette, inhibits my imagination, ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Summerchild that sits by the water weaving sunlight threads in his hands. The golden river that day a shelter, a stream where he could make pebbles dance. You looked around you, nobody had taken any notice of what you saw against the evening sky, a formation, a million black birds looking like one; LIVE LONG. -
god in gold
I remember once walking out hand in hand with a boy i knew, and it was summer and suddenly before us was a field of gold. Gold as far as you could see. We knew we'd be rich for ever. We filled our pockets and our hair. We were rolled in gold. We ran through the field laughing and our legs and feet were coated in yellow dust, so that we were like ( Read more... ) -
cosmic
I MAY NOT ALWAYS LOVE YOU BUT AS LONG AS THERE ARE STARS ABOVE YOU; -
patterns
we are not on a magic carpet ride. we are not disco balls twirling from the ceiling. we are not one hundred and fifty nine cans of soup lined neatly on the shelves. we are just slightly expired. -
part reason
He had the kind of legs that go around in circles. He orbited me. He was a universe of play. Why did I walk so purposefully in a straight line? Where would it take me? He went round and round and we got there all the same.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
-
your lips like apple, red-red
God made men by baking them in an oven, but he forgot about the first batch, and that's how Black people were born. And then he was so anxious about the next batch, he took them out of the oven too soon, so that's how the White people were made. But the third batch he let cook until they were golden-golden, and, honey, that's you and me. -
one morning
when we kiss, i stand on tiptoe.
you are very good for my calves!
