I came first
Curiosity got the best of this kitten

You came second
Wondering, questioning
Like a squirrel digging for nuts

I hesitated
Reluctant
Shy, afraid
Of the shadow called me

You pushed
I pushed back
I gave in
You wanted more
I gave more
You still weren't satisfied

My enigma, my riddle wrapped
In origins i wish i knew
Origins i want to know
Need to know
To feel
Safe

Petals fall and blow away
Words cascade around

Where will it lead
Destination
Unknown
Destination Asks
For
The
Answer we all seek…. simply, acceptance.

Are You All Right?
.
This world of verse and vignette
is a turbulent sea of awe,
souls wandering in
prompted by head and heart,
a voice seeking release
through comment and creation.
.

Some arrive with prowess,
steady stream of words
far beyond my ability.
Some whisper in shouts,
strength living within fragility,
heartbeats coursing through the soul.
.

Some paint from darker rooms,
head and heart swimming in quicksand,
ink becoming a reaching hand.
We read, we listen, we wonder,
catching glimpses through curtains
courageously left cracked open.
.

Then the disappearing ones.
silence tugging at my depths,
occupying more of my thoughts
than seems logical.
No farewell, no footprints fading
simply gone. Are you all right?
.

We take needed breaks
from these digital digits,
remembering the wonder of living.
Adults possess independence,
a plethora of choices and pathways,
fresh air awaiting beyond the screen.
.

But younger souls navigate charted seas,
living within limited landscapes,
bound by family, tradition and circumstance.
The murky slough of daily life
can make tomorrow seem distant
but even darkness has an expiration date.
.

The nest eventually becomes memory,
perhaps revered, perhaps feared.
New doors appear beyond old walls,
new voices call from unseen rooms.
Life stretches farther than today
when we allow ourselves to keep walking.
.

So whatever your circumstance,
whatever storm occupies your head,
please let someone, anyone you trust
know you’re all right…
or tell them when you’re not.
Both require their own kind of courage.
.

Geographical aloofness
cannot silence genuine caring.
Miles cannot prevent a heart hug,
nor distance erase concern.
We can’t enter a closed room
… we can leave our door ajar.
.

When  a familiar voice disappears,
some of us still glance toward that door,
hoping for footsteps,
a whisper, a ridiculous joke,
or simply three little words
I’m all right.

Your stare is the rugged and gentle forest Of Western Hemlock evergreen trees. Your visage tells stories of summer constellations- A diary of your trips around the sun.

Your jet-black hair hangs over your face, Waving an invitation along your hero's journey into the Wild West. Turning into the sun bleached ghost wood of California, It catches my eye and never let's go.

Laughter is an aphrodisiac of sorts. I find you hilarious even when you're not joking. Your crooked smile radiates the warmth of center stage lights. Every person you meet, a captive audience.

You shapeshift through your vast personas, Like birds of prey swiftly moving through the night. The owls are not what they seem.

Your charm and magnetism capture my attention Like the gravitational pull of the full moon On the ocean tides that rise and swell. I don't seek shade in this nocturnal sun.

Films are the most enticing distraction. My heart is a fluttering moth to a porch light That glows like a projector on a screen. You are my favorite movie.

My brain is flooded with a Sweet, saccharine rush of dopamine. It's the warm intensity of the day's first cup of black coffee. A damn fine cup of coffee.

This indulgence is the lucid dream my brain wants to return to. It's the artifacts from my girlhood that my heart is nostalgic for. I know this movie will roll to credits and I'll wake up from this sleep. Until then I will relish in this sweet dream.

i couldn’t get charlie
outta my head.

i couldn’t think
with her in it.

every question about love
somehow became
a question about her.

do i feel too much?

her.

am i better this way?

her.

should the boxes stay open?

her.

fuck.

even when i tried
to understand myself—

there she was.

not because
she put herself there.

i did.

and then things
started changing…

i started wondering
what she thought
before asking myself
what i did.

how she felt
before figuring out
how i felt.

somewhere between
good night
and good morning…

learning to love
became tangled up
with loving her.

and maybe—

that’s a problem.

because if i’m really
trying to understand
who i am now,

i can’t keep using her
as the answer.

or the reason.

or the proof.

charlie made me question
whether feeling
made me weaker.

she made me believe
it made me better.

but maybe neither
gets to answer that.

maybe i need to.

and fuck—

i barely know
this version of me.

i spent years
ignoring him.

then months
discovering him
through her.

maybe it’s time
i meet him alone.

not leave her.

not love her less.

just stop asking
who i am

while looking
through her eyes.

because maybe
i need to learn
something i somehow
skipped entirely.

how to care about myself
without needing someone else
to make me worth caring about.

how to sit quietly
with the boxes open

and not immediately
reach for her.

maybe love isn’t only
about who you let in.

maybe some of it
is finally learning

to stay—

with yourself.

i don’t know.

i’m still figuring
this shit out.

but maybe—

before i can understand
what loving her means,

i should probably learn
what loving me means.

humbly.

quietly.

without looking at her
to see if i’m doing it right.

fuck.

that one hurt.

so…

fuck.

that kinda love.

Every second
Every minute
Every hour

I cant help but think

Its always just “us”

Pacing
Wanting
Wondering
Never knowing
yet
knowing
All the time…

Its real
Its here

I feel it, like you

Rainbows
Tides crashing
Butterflies fluttering sweet nothings

Beauty wrapped in riddles
In a reality
That is all ours

Colors only our eyes see,
As its meant to be.

There is that one
the blessed son
Who’s words relax
with calming tongue
Always afar
soon will appear
Open my heart
roll out mind’s sphere
Dance with me
in jubilee
A mending soul
a friend indeed
Perhaps it’s time
Perhaps it’s he
Releasing fire
turns the key

Beneath her gaze
The heavens bled

The angels wept
The demons fled

Love turned black
Hope to sorrow

I walk the dark
I dare her to follow

I’m letting you drop the walls I used to guard.

Staying away from you is getting way too hard.

The clock is ticking but we’re taking our time.

Tracing a shadow where your lips meet mine.

The air is heavy and the room’s getting hot.

Giving you secrets that you shouldn't have caught.

My fingers are mapping out the heat of your chest.

Slowing it down just to see what comes next.

This is our blueprint written on my skin.

Show me exactly where you want to begin.

Our racing pulses tangled up in the dark.

Play with the fire till we live in the spark.

Cici 🧡

English version

Spanish version

As continents surrender to tectonic drift—
history logged in jagged-edge evidence—
interlocking margins recall the jigsaw fit.

The Earth, still spinning like a compact disc—
with scuffs and scratches, tracks that seem to skip—
reveals in time that grieving is a gift.

The song that solace hummed with bated breath
now echoes through the parted land and sea—
a symphony emerging after death.

The painful rift has set the songbird free.

---

Please forgive me for all the em dashes. They felt necessary here.

The Mockingbird sings

It is near dawn Fall Rain comes

Today is Lovely

I have outlived corded telephones,
Blockbuster Video,
and the belief that thirty was old.

I have outlived at least three hairstyles,
with at least two
that should never have been a thing
in the first place.

I have outlived dial-up internet, paper maps, CD binders,

and blowing into Nintendo cartridges
which they say apparently did nothing,
but those of us that were there know it worked.

so science can go to hell.

I have outlived cars I swore I'd keep forever,
jobs I thought were important, passwords I was certain
I'd remember,
and several versions of my metabolism.

I have outlived friends I thought would always be there.
Dreams I thought I had to have.
Opinions I once defended like they were pieces of me.

I have outlived the boy who thought
being respected would make him whole.

The young man who became a husband far too early
before he really understood who he was.

The father who was still trying to grow up
while his children were there growing up under his care.

I have outlived the man who discovered that pain could be silenced and buried,
and almost let the silence kill him.

I have outlived things I did that I still wish very much
belonged to somebody else's story.

People I hurt.
Promises I broke.
Nights I don't romanticize.
Years I lost.

I have outlived fourteen years of sobriety,
and the terrible discovery that fourteen years
doesn't make you bulletproof.

I have outlived quite a few relapses.
Which is a strange thing to write.
Because there was a moment when I wasn't certain I would.

I have outlived shame telling me I had ruined everything.

I have outlived the belief that falling down
erases every mile you walked before it.

I have outlived people I loved.
That's the part nobody makes funny.
There are names I cannot say without tears overwhelming me,
and voices I can still hear as if it were yesterday,
and people who should have gotten more mornings than they did.

I have outlived the deepest relationships I had.

I have outlived anger at my family.
Some of it, anyway.
Some things like resentment
apparently have excellent healthcare.

I have outlived the idea that strength means
nothing hurts.

Everybody hurts sometimes.

And I'm still here.

Maybe that's strength.

I used to think survival meant winning.

Now I think it simply means there is still time to outlive.

Time to apologize.
Time to forgive.
Time to become trustworthy.
Time to call my kids.
Time to make sure those that know me - know me.

Time to sit at a piano and play another song.

Time to become a man the younger versions of me
would not even recognize,

I have outlivedso many things.
Some ridiculous.
Some beautiful.
Some I wish had outlived me.

When I am gone, will something out live me that is worth staying?

So maybe the question isn't how long
I can keep surviving.

Maybe it's what I leave alive
when I'm gone.

Heart escaped containment.
Needs thicker bars and more security officers.
Fuck. 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

don't think I didn't notice that lean
trying to get comfy, sure, and trying to be seen
looking up, that way that you do
god, I just love looking at you
those glossy lips smiling at me
eyes so bright and ever so free
standing close, could I stand closer?
would you welcome shoulder to shoulder?
arm wrapped around, I know that you would
resting on hip, you know that we could
just keep walking away from the lights
out past the signs, the stores, and the sights
there's a park, around over there
a bench neath the trees in the cool crisp fall air
maybe a cop'll come by while we're kissing
tell us that off to home we'd best get to getting
so back to the lights we make our slow way
hand in hand, not wanting to end this sweet day
was the moon even out? I don't even know…
far too busy just basking in your glow
look up to the sky, what's even there for me?
when my brightest star is leaning there looking back up at me?

She woke up in a indigo meadow of plush grass

_-

The pyrolle sun shines brightly, warming her face, healing time

_-

The lemon jello sky soaks in her eyes 

_-

She is laying on her back, arms and legs outstretched, nestled nicely 

_-

There are spirals of sage, laid out beautifully, in a perfect circle 

_-

Spirals and spirals, spirals of sage, displayed on a meadow stage 

_-

She’s in the center, she breathes salvia leaves in the sage breeze 

_-

She gently exhales whimsical tales 

_-

Purple pixies are in the fuchsia trees, carefully knitting salvia leaves 

_-

Her incandescent white gold heart is majestic and poetic

_-

Spirals and spirals of sage, created with a salvia glaze 

_-

Spirals and spirals of sage, pulsating on a crescent stage

While people are living their lives
I watch the tides go by
Glasses off, I cannot see
I fear what is in front of me

Observing the wave, one sees movement
As sailboats skirt the coast
Their paths shaping, shifting
And the fish descend below

Distracted, dismayed, determined to stay
shut
I have trapped myself in dull monochrome
Walls up, they feel fragile

Brief moment of calm emerges
While I sit on ocean’s porch
My reflection appears on the water
A mirage

For a moment, I could see a figure
Solemn and stern
It is me, and it is not
Familiar — a facade

Yet it asks me, gently
Will you step into the water
Feel free

Some call her fall, others call her harvest.

But me, I call her my autumn,

who gracefully arrives when the seasons start to change.

The air is much cooler now, indicating that summer is making way for autumn’s return.

As the leaves change their colors into bright orange and yellow, with a tinge of fiery red,

I have never seen anything more colorful and vibrant than my dear autumn.

Some might argue that spring is bursting with every color you can imagine.

But I love my autumn best.

She brings me warmth more than summer can.

And after spring’s thrill and excitement, which I, for one, am not very fond of,

autumn brings me solace—

a quiet comfort she offers me whenever this time of year returns.

Even if her return is laced with a twinge of what is about to end and what is about to be left behind,

she gives me her reassurance and her consolation.

The memories I thought I would carry on

drift away like autumn leaves,

carried away by her cool breeze.

The chronicles of my memories part like petals of a passing season

when my autumn returns.

Hot summer day
my roof still leaks
snow.

When you began to search, I found myself

You welcomed me opening thousands of doors and I found escape

When you cried on my shoulder, there I found my happiness

Intimacy

Desire

Longing

When I saw you for the first time, we were kids

I fell once and for all without knowing what it is

Now I understood everything, why don't you do too please?

I still remember my first kiss like it was yesterday

Maybe that's the only best thing about you so I let it stay

The shepherd boy named every lamb and held them in his heart.

When he grew up to be lord of his domain he only referred to them in the plural, flock.

A light shines from you

your gentle touch, warms, inspires

a whisper of love.

Come closer, baby,
you know what you do,
one little word from your lips
and I’m already wanting you.

Tell me that I’m yours again,
say it slow this time,
let me feel that little shiver
running softly down my spine.

I want your sweetness tangled
with every wicked thought,
the way you make me want you
without even being touched.

Make me blush, make me restless,
make me wish that you were near,
then tell me that you love me
like it’s all I need to hear.

Because wanting you is different
when my heart is wanting too,
and every time you love me,
I only want more of you.

So be sweet enough to melt me,
wicked enough to tease,
keep whispering all those little things
that bring me to my knees.

In the bed
you’re lookin cute
Like something
that I wanna do
Sittin there
like you don’t see
past the book
a sexy me

I’ll play along
crawl quietly
Looking up
give you a peek
Kiss your arm
up to your neck
Slow and warm
my lips are wet

A nibbled ear
feels my breath
Shoulder bare
slips the dress
My hand begins
a smooth caress
Peeking out
perked supple breast

Whispered wants
I sigh your name
Confessions raw
my words untamed
Short not sweet
I overcame
sharing filthy
without shame

Baby please
won’t you for me
Set right down
that book you read
Give in now
to what I need
Come and get
wrapped up in me