the friction of skin

November 11, 2019

Desire
vibrates
in the friction of skin,
the throbbing rhythm
of joined bodies,
relentlessly
clinging.

Dee

Daily Dreaming

November 11, 2019

I don’t want to give too much away
but the sun doesn’t rise in this one.
Instead, I light a matchstick on your spine
and our slept-over sweat doesn’t burn
and the bathtub quakes with lavender and grime.
These days, we sleep in shifts
and watch for shadows, crawling about
like things that don’t live here, like things
that don’t live anywhere.
I’m hoping that, in every scenario,
you still love me more in the end.
Outside, the hydrangeas are sagging
with rain and inside you are looking me over.
I don’t want to give too much away
but, in this one, the night is both wasted and spent well.

Kara Goughnour

Need

November 10, 2019

I need you
YOU
with me: inside me
penetrating my soul
not with romantic or melancholic airs
but with your cock and fingers
suffocating the cold
with your bodily heat
healing my anxiety –
I want to have you anywhere
and everywhere:
a lift
a park
the office
an alleyway
touching my breasts
your cock stiffening
guided by our wildest desires
touching paradise
despite our cloak of sin –
I need you
YOU

Dee

All night

November 10, 2019

We spoke all night in tongues,
in fingertips, in teeth.

Robert Hass
Spring

Perhaps when our bodies throb and rub
against each other, they produce a sound
inaudible to us but heard up there, in the clouds and higher,
by those who can no longer hear common sounds . . .
Or, maybe, this is how He wants to check by ear: are we still intact?
No cracks in mortal vessels? And to this end He bangs
men against women?

Vera Pavlova
Trans. Steven Seymour

I dreamed what you dreamed

November 9, 2019

We live and breathe words….It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colours and textures and sounds, I felt – I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted – and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.

Cassandra Clare
Clockwork Prince

hinge together

November 9, 2019

I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

Lisa Kleypas
Blue-Eyed Devil

No more than friends

November 3, 2019

It is so quick how we forget
The very first time we met.
My heart skipped a few beats
As I tried to catch my breath.
I looked softly into your eyes.
I knew that very day
That I was in love, but the wrong way.

I saw you look at me
With those eyes and a smile so boldly.
At that time you were not free.
I knew that this could never be.
My heart sunk to the floor.
I stared through those eyes of yours
And thought to myself, I will never be yours.

I kept my feelings deep inside
To remain just friends….
That was how it was going to end.
I knew just how you felt.
I could feel it burning inside
That the love we shared could never be.
No more than friends,
Which is exactly how it began.

Sopheap Cabaniss

Edge of the Wild

November 3, 2019

It ends and starts with intention, for all beginnings are ends.

Invaluable, it doesn’t count for much, I know, but I try. Hard.
There are ways to repeat this, a chorus of crows, a fluttering of sound.
I might get used to it, after some time, but I’ll often be on edge, pinfooted.
It would look like spying, but see here, what I’ve quietly done.
Love and love and more love: evergreen,
Warm, belly-full; cool, satiated, a wilding of grin, romp and ballad.
If all my fears went driving, all stirrings travelled on,
I’d still be here, finishing things; planted and pruning.
There is no gateway; no golden harp.
I am in need, I am in want, I am in hope.
It isn’t a secret, a sheltered hideaway or a silent hurt.
I am admiring the view now, seeing all that it is full and plenty,
And wanting it for myself, closing the distance of one jealousy to another.
Forever; wild and steaming, rioting and skimming the sky with resilience
I am mostly staring at stars, backlit by moonlight.
Most nights, I wonder, half-handedly curious, yet struck with ebbing
Let me, help me to see the worth, the riches, the flourish under the hibernating.
I am so afraid of being troubled and alone at the end of this world,
At the start of whatever is next.

Leah Umansky

Scars

November 3, 2019

We don’t age with years, we age with scars. Scars that reminds us of the things we’ve conquered with fear, with love, and with pain. Scars that reminds us that nothing in this world comes easy, but ultimately everything heals through time.

Juansen Dizon
Aging