I saw X.
It was tender, satiating for once. The first time we’ve connected that I left feeling… satisfied.
He was in tune with me. He listened to me and gave me what I wanted.
I felt his heart outside of his nervous system. I felt it on his body, tasted it on his skin, and heard it in his voice as he whispered to me.
He feels safe with me.
I spoke his love language as he laid his head on my bosom, and I caressed his head, back, and arms. I soothed him. I’m protective over him beyond myself.
I told him I cared about him and expressed other affections. I kissed his head. He’s my baby.
This time I adored him all the way.
We laughed and teased. I told him I felt safe with him. We held each other’s bodies, pressing skin against skin, rubbing our faces together, biting cheeks. He adores me.
We became yin and yang, and I loved it. Saliva and sweat—I didn’t mind.
I don’t need to know what it is anymore. I’ve worn myself out trying to understand.
I surrender.
He means something to me. What we have is genuine. It’s not some fantasy anymore. It’s real. Out of my head. Real.
I wanted to reassure him. Remind him that he’s special to me.
X is my lover, and I think I need him.
Time will continue, but I’m in a vulnerable place, and I’m no longer embarrassed to admit that I need him.
I needed him yesterday. We fell asleep on the phone.
I feel warm when he calls me his Mulberry.
We talked while I was at work, and I didn’t feel so alone in it all. I feel emotionally and spiritually safe knowing he’s here.
It’s easy to assume—or even wish—for more. Though I don’t think that’s us.
Something about X soothes me like a child checking to make sure their mother is still there, then finding out she is. The relief. The calm that follows.
Maybe I am not as strong as I thought.
This space is good.
I am chaos and loud. I am mad and an exciting time. I make safe spaces for people to exist, and they choose to exist with me.
Get to know someone long enough, and you’ll eventually see a piece of yourself in them.
I want to hold on to X.
I don’t want to let go of what we are.
I just don’t.
Benevolent Cruel Season
an angel from the sun
who knew when to be lost
she’s benevolent
a cruel season
she began only to end
one day with her
was worth searching for
nothing about her was linear
she ran intoxicatingly
cold plunging into the hearts of her prey
she was found on the last eclipse
making mosaics
writing poems about it
what an imagination she is
Weave
i weave tension
as eyes made contact
as our stare shapes
fantasy and eruption
we are careless
we destroy out of delight
our passion with walls poured pride
we became one another’s prey
i am dancing on the world
you buillt it with the grit between our souls’ teeth
I Turn Void
Gasping for your air
I turn void
I cave in
Absorbed by your flesh
Seeking words of salvation
a cure to the spell
Fatal devotion
I’ll rage without it
Won’t care about anything else
The One Who Stayed Grounded
He aroused me till numb
My heart sedated by his insanity
Caught me mid-revelation
Reaching for me at the height of his vision
.
I wanted him to come with me
But he wasn’t that type of guy
It pained him to watch me as I’d fly
Still front and center he’d release me wild
He ached to carry me whenever I fell
.
Rubbed me up with aloe vera
And intuitive kisses to heal
Wanted to make it well
Fading as I opened to it
Defeated in the win
So I held him also in sin.
I Try To Unwrite It
Sometimes I reread the poems I wrote for past lovers and feel like… this was too good for them. I try to take it back
Too tender. Too raw. Too sacred.
Bitterness shows up first.
Memory comes next.
With it the soft ache of truth.
I remember why I wrote it, the little universe we lived in for a while.
And I remember.
I remember it was theirs. Because a version of me meant it.
Even if they didn’t deserve the whole poem forever.
Some things are real just because they happened.
And some people get lucky enough to be written about.
The love was real, so was the poem.
So I give it back.
Held like something holy, by something holy
Too Small
my heart is tired
she wants to go home
i tried to build her one
but they’re all too small
she never fit
I Wore You
we had the same conversations like it was yesterday
i wore blue for days and days straight
i wore all my fibers as you
i knew you were blue too
i fasted
i was corrupt
you wouldn’t let my burn touch a thing
you laughed in the face of it
Someone
Rooted into my soul,
he was vital, he oppressed
Potent love,
a bold kind.
Violent
His tongue barbaric
Puissant hand in hand
But he needed me.
I needed him—
I was afraid to say.
He held me.
He told me,
he’d keep me safe.
Shielding my power with his power
He was my someone
He was someone
Freegrandmaa 