French Vanilla

Your kiss tasted like waffles in my dreams today
Sugar-laced
Macchiato foam still on your lips
A touch of cinnamon caught in those grooves
carved in by laughter, mischief and sensation
your mouth adorned
your tongue French touched
inviting me to savour you
and sate my hunger
for your love

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Phansanity

and there it is again, that craving
for a stage, a mask, a line
after all those years not fading
just numbed perhaps for a little while
when the dreamer’s lost her courage
her heart broken one too many times
and the beast of sanity felt nourished
by faking hunger for a normal life

Night Fall

I have weird dreams these days
dark sometimes, unsettling
but you are always there to soothe
not that I’d often see your face
it is your presence that I sense
until I put you in my sheets
my mind done playing tricks
telling me exactly what I crave
your skin on mine, your mouth
then your embrace
lips spoiling you
your neck, your curves
my favorite treat
no payback needed
desired, yes
your bliss priority, however
your smile, a kiss
so deep it tingles in my gut
and leaves me panting
from wanting you so much

Untitled

Hope is a glass half full wishing for a refill while being trapped in an entity that’s easily broken, its shattered remnants piercing your heart with fragments of dreams long crushed, scarring your soul if you don’t find the essence of your one true love.

Un/loved

I’ve reached that point of not grasping your do, all I see is friction between me and you. Our differences an ocean setting us apart, your smiles a lie, your decisions rash to me, unsmart. And yet I love you, against my will, close my eyes, long to kiss you and nuzzle your hills – want to drown in your laugh, calm my anger, your fears, dream of hearing my name whispered quietly fierce.

Summer Blessings

Two days of summer this year. August 30 and finally a clear blue, no clouds anywhere to be seen except those plane-painted lines up high in the azure. To say this year so far has left me unscarred, my soul untainted, my heart intact would be a lie, but through my tears I’m finally able to embrace my blessings. No need to count them really because for every blow I took, a gift was there to help me breathe, so they were plenty. I just had to see them through the mist of heartache, rage and longing. My favorite season blown away by wind, the heat I need to make it through a long gray winter washed away by storms and heavy rains – the weather matching my mood so painfully, my life, my situation. Or was my mood inflicted on me by a sun just smiling in absentia, depriving me of energy and warmth? On the days that counted she was always there, however, shining through a cloud-cluttered sky. And although my skin’s still pale, my heart still bleeding from every dream that burst this year making my smile look crushed, these two days of summer have lifted my spirits and patched me up. With autumn fast approaching, I hope this vigor, verve and and vim will last.

Dreamers

There they are again, my tears
not flowing freely but still there
they don’t engulf me anymore
but leave me saddened, deeply so
another opportunity unanswered
another blow
and all I want is smile at you in silence
feel your arms embracing me
our bitterness unspoken
we both know it all too well
the hope and setbacks and frustration
the inability to just let go
of dreams so deeply nestled in our fabric
the main ingredient of our souls

Morning Dance

I feel your warmth and smell your scent before I’m even sure that I’m awake. My arm is loosely tucked around your waist, our legs entangled. You are so beautiful in your sleep, your face relaxed. It is a rare sight these days. Your features softened, I detect no hint of pain, nor sorrow, only laugh lines adorning your eyes and lips. It is my favorite start into the morning, drinking your essence in like this with the first rays of sunshine, my hand fondling your skin as I’m still not sure if perhaps you’re just a dream, if I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone once again, leaving me panting in my sheets. But you are here, I am certain now as my fingers explore every curve on your back, your rear and finally your neck, until they come to rest in your hair to pull you closer for a first sweet kiss as you smile at me. But before my mouth finds yours, I am awake, truly now and your presence, as always, is nothing but a trick my heart’s been playing on me, craving your embrace, my skin still feeling yours against mine, a phantom pain created by my lovetorn mind.

Naked

Now this is new to me: I’m numb. I hear your voice and wish to cry but I have no tears left, nor do I feel anything else. No joy, no pain, no indifference – nothing. It is as if my feelings have dried out, my heart, although my soul is still aching for you as it hears the fraction in your voice, that little crack as it breaks away while you’re trying to convince me of your well-being.
I do not like not feeling, not being but a shell of myself, stripped of my emotions. Is this a side effect of loving you so much without the rewards of having your love in return? Has my heart decided to take a vacation now from being bruised and has forgotten how much you also lift me up by just being you, by being there – if only in the distance – that your mere existence means the world to me and lets me breathe?
I never expected to miss shedding tears over you, to crave the impact of your soul revealed to me like no one else before, pulling me down on the floor, crippling me. But never have my tears left me as jaded and empty as not feeling anything, not even my heart beat in my own chest. And I wonder how long this will last, because I rather break down every night and long for you waking up than being stripped bare and soulless like this. Without emotions I simply do not now how to exist.