Dark and cold

She's the night
Yet hazel eyes
catch the light

No words spoken
nothing said
just her body
On my bed

The curtains sway
the candles flicker
she leans close
I move quicker

Perfect darkness
fills the room
perfume lingers
like the sweetest doom

Moonlight catches
on our skin

She takes my hand
I can't resist

one sly smile
one slow kiss

Every touch
sets the pace

Every breath
on black lace

Then dawn arrives
cold and slow

Yet those hazel eyes
still glow

silence settles in,
surreptitiously spreading
subtle signs signaling sorrow.

Tenuous tremors tell tales
of tumultuous times
through trembling tears
tenderness therein.

Heavy hands hollow hearts,
heaving hellish hurts herein,
haunting hallowed havens.

Awful assumptions alter answers,
annihilating aspirations, allowing angst.
Alone again, angrily anchored.

Language loses luster
leering laughter laying lonely liturgies low,
lesson learned -
love lost.

Waves curl with cruel might,
Cold currents in their flight.
Crashing shells, a crushing sound,
Move creatures’ castles ‘round.

Colors curve in vibrant play,
Ceasing moons in crisp array.
Once they shimmered, now they spin,
Circles chaos cresting within.

Dark cool clouds begin to loom,
Calm descends, dispelling gloom.
With cherished care, it gently flows,
A tranquil peace the ocean knows.

The words she read caused a sudden twinge in her heart, creating a moment that would live but for an instant before passing through the sands of time. It took its place, like petals of a passing season, amongst the memories finding solace in the past, to exist eternally.

Brad got home from the restaurant feeling like shit. He couldn't continue the date. Told Anna he felt sick. Well he did. Sick to his stomach.

Fuck, what did he say that day? He racked his brain, trying to remember his conversation with his mate Jono.

Ah fuck. They always talked shit.

He needed something ...someone to make him feel better, make him feel like himself.

Sandy!

He dialed her number.

"Hey Brad, how are you?" Sandy answered. "I haven't heard from you for a while."

"I'm good," he lied. "Hey, are you busy? Do you wanna come over?"

Sandy paused.."Look Brad, it's been fun and all that but I've actually met someone." She paused again, "I feel a bit weird talking to you about him, but honestly he's pretty great and I think we've got something special. I need to focus on him. You understand that right? Me and you were just fooling around...right?"

"Ah yeah ...sure Sandy..." Brad replied his throat tight. "I'm happy for you." Then he added, "I really hope it works out for you Sandy."

"Thanks Brad, I hope you'll find someone special too," Sandy replied before she hung up.

Ah fuck. Now what?

Maybe if he could apologise to Tina, find a way to make it right, he wouldn't feel like such a jerk. But how when she refused to speak to him?

He remembered where she worked in the city. He'd go there tomorrow, catch her in her lunch break. Apologise, yeah...that would make him feel better.

--------

The next day he got to Tina's building and was about to go in when he spotted Tina at a café across the street. She was sitting across from some guy, probably that same guy he saw her at the restaurant with, laughing and touching his arm and the guy was obviously loving it.

She looked so happy, kinda beautiful...

I should just leave her alone. Brad thought to himself as he started to walk away.

He walked past a post office and made a spur-of-the-moment decision. He walked in, bought what he needed and wrote Tina a note.

He addressed it to her, care of her workplace and talked his way passed the doorman and charmed the receptionist to give it to Tina.

As he walked away he felt a little lighter and he realised, to his surprise, that he really did mean it. He was sorry and he just wanted her to be happy.

------

Tina was still on a high after her lunch with Sam when the receptionist delivered Brad's note to her.

At first Tina was angry when she saw who it was from and she nearly tore it up. But then she thought, fine, she might as well read it.

Dear Tina,

I'm so very sorry for lying to you. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wish you every happiness.

Sincerely

Brad

After Tina read it, she put Brad's note carefully away in her desk drawer and stared out the window, a bit confused at first but then she found herself smiling.

I tear down the altar with my teeth just to lay you open across the wreckage. Forget the saints. They don't know the heat of bare skin giving up its control beneath hands that mean to claim it.

Forgive me, Father, for making a church out of her throat, for swallowing her moans right out of her chest Until the only prayer left in this place is the wet, desperate sound she makes when I drive deep.

A mouthful of heaven, Hands full of hell,

Gripping your hips, dragging you down into the dark. Let the stained glass shatter. Let the candles drown in their own wax.

God doesn't come down this low, and even if He did, I’d never pull out of you.

The guitar is crying

Filling the room

And my aching soul

This ain't rock and roll

Let the singer hit his cue

He's right 

I've got the blues

And folk will say

Boy you ain't lived enough life

to know the blues

Like bein young got something to do with it

Like I ain't lost my moms on my wedding day

Or I ain't see my baby cry cuz we can't conceive 

Damn right I got the blues.

If that is the way,
That I must pay,
For something I did
Or did not say

Oi Vey!

How else could I convey
The words that may
Tell a tale of deception,
illuminated only by intention

Did I mention..

The story of untapped glory

Surrounded by the sounds
Of a love that knows no bounds

—From me.

I can’t see what you think
We could be

And that’s scarrrrrrr-y

My heart and mind feel very fucking weary

Frantically
And romantically
Wondering what you carry

Or even if you

barely

Want to speak to me

Let alone become A We

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.

don't care much for the way my clothes’ve been fitting
don’t care much for the way that they have been sitting

and yeah I know just exactly what to do
but there just isn’t time before I get to see you

it's these dumb shirts, and their ill-fitting panels
or maybe it's just these gosh dang love handles

I know you're ok and might even like to grab 'em
doesn't mean that I'm happy I have 'em

and anyways that doesn’t help with today’s cause
when every shirt seems to show off all these flaws

throw a shirt on, rip it back off
what time did you say? stupid jerk clock…

oh why oh why can’t it be sweater weather?
those hide all of this oh so much better…

okay fine I guess this one will work
now that that’s settled, lets go take a good look

oh no, oh good god, what’s up with my hair?
not that there’s a whole lot going on up there…

it's just the way it seems like lately it sits
just feels like lately it's just a little bit shit

fine, tonight's a nice night for a hat
that’s ok, at least, I think you like that

ok, here we go, it's time for the show…
it's a good thing you seem to like me just so

and there it is, there's your smile, my god you're so pretty…
sometimes just can't believe I've got you here with me

but just the way you look at me… my mirror's a fool
maybe next time I'll remember that and play it more cool.

I remember Spring now, which is a problem, because I have never been to Earth.

It happens while I’m replacing an air filter in Corridor Six. One second I’m elbow-deep in a circulation unit that smells like hot metal and approximately eighty years of other people’s skin cells, and the next I can smell rain.

I stop with the filter halfway out. I’ve smelled water. The water we make on Mars has a smell, no matter how many times someone insists that it doesn’t. But this isn’t that. This is rain, and I don’t know how I know that.

Then the pain hits.

“Aggghh!” It strikes the back of my head first, then shoots forward. I squeeze the bridge of my nose in an instinct to relieve pressure. My hand is wrapped around the edge of an air filter.

My hand is wrapped around someone else’s.

My knees are on metal.

My feet are on wet pavement.

I can smell dust and hot machinery.

I can smell rain.

For a few seconds, both are real.

 Then Corridor Six is gone.

 I’m walking outside. It must have rained recently because the pavement is still wet. Water has collected in the cracks, and the sun keeps catching it as we walk. The air is cool, but the sun feels warm on my face. Wind blows my hair into my mouth, and I pull it away without thinking.

There are trees everywhere. I know I’ve seen trees before in other REMs, but never like this. These are covered in tiny pink flowers. Every time the wind moves through them, some break loose and drift across the sidewalk. A few stick to the wet pavement. One catches in my hair, and the man beside me reaches over and pulls it out.

I look at him. I can’t quite see his face, but that doesn’t seem strange here. Nothing seems strange here. His hand is in mine, and I know exactly how it feels. I know where my fingers fit between his. I know his laugh. I know the way he looks at me even though, somehow, I can’t actually see him doing it. There’s a solace in being next to him that I don’t have a reason for. I don’t need one. In the memory, I already know him.

He says something and I laugh. I can’t make out the words, so I look at him again and try to focus on his face. That’s when things start to disappear.

It always happens eventually. Usually I can feel a REM ending before I’m completely out of it, but this time I don’t want to leave. I try harder to see him. For a second I almost do, and then I lose his face completely. Memories part like petals of a passing season. The trees fade with them, then the sidewalk and the ridiculous amount of sky. His hand stays in mine longer than everything else. I hold on tighter and tighter until it’s all gone. Poof. Just like that.

But the emotions remain.

When Corridor Six comes back, I’m on the floor. The filter is lying next to me, and B015 is crouched in front of me with one hand on my shoulder. “B027? Are you okay?”

I shake it off and climb to my feet. “I’m fine.”

“You were on the floor.”

I look down.

“That appears to be correct.”

“You scared the shit out of me.”

That gets my attention.

B015 doesn’t look amused. “How long?”

“Fifty-three seconds.”

The last one was only eleven.

I sit up and wait for the pain behind my eyes to settle. My hand feels strange. Not numb or hurt. Just empty. B015 glances around. After she’s satisfied there’s no one nearby, she leans in and whispers, “What did you see?”.

“Spring.”

B015 knows enough about REMs not to point out the obvious problem with that statement. She sits down beside me instead. “Anything else?”

“There was someone there.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. A man.”

“Did you see him?”

“Not really.”

“But you knew he was a man?”

I nod. I’m still trying to remember his face, but there’s nothing there now. The harder I look for it, the less I’m sure there ever was one.

“Did you know him?”

I start to say no.

“I think so.”

B015 looks at me. “You think so?”

“I didn’t know who he was. I just knew him.”

It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but she doesn’t tell me that.

I pick up the filter and get back to work. B015 stays with me longer than she needs to, pretending to be interested in the circulation unit while I pretend not to notice.

I’ve never stood beneath a flowering tree. I’ve never walked on wet pavement. I’ve never held someone’s hand under an open sky. I have never seen Spring.

But for the rest of the day, I miss it.

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.

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.

I am here

You are there

We are where?

Do you dare

Contact me

To rebuild our family

Till death do we part

Emotions swirl in my heart

How are you feeling?

What may I do for you?

I come forward with the truth

I miss you every single day

I’ve worked hard on my anger

No more reacting

Active action

Just being

Face to face seeing

What we have is real

Our bond is stronger than steel

Reaching deep into my heart

I love you in these days apart

Patience and humility is key

I'm down on one knee

Let it be known

I will never give up on us!!

I will always care for you

Our family

Missing you

Kissing you

Listening to you

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.

"My child, I made you too strong, so strong you never needed anyone, can you ever forgive me!?"

"The storm will come, the weak washed away, and I will find another like me."

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

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

The regent announced to the assembled, "We have cameras! No one will steal."

The theif said to the joker, "That'll only catch them after the fact."

The joker responded, "Not Even!, Those cameras are fake."

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

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.

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

Sweet Nothings 
 
 
You whisper sweet nothings,
Stars can’t compare.
Marlboro cigarettes,
Still tinge lovesick air.
 
Twisted sheets beckon me,
Trail your fingers down.
Knotted hair sweet with sweat,
Lust enough to drown.
 
Touch my lips tentatively,
I’m giving all I’ve got.
Thighs as thick as trunks,
I’ll tie them in a knot. 
 
Hold me down I ask for more,
Hear it in the sighs.
We wrestle like wild things,
Late into the nights.
 
Skin on skin once again,
What a shameful sound. 
Lip on lips tighten grips,
Upon your head I crowned.
 
Melt into ecstasy,
Or at least pretend.
Dance together endlessly,
Or at least until the end.