Sweetness

A sweet rhythm bends.

My lungs clenched tight

Choking my words.

I know the language has been written

before,

but it slipped my memory.

The choking

Will for sure help me remember,

And never forget,

Where the pages of the past,

Fell,

Once,

Before.

Thou Art The Forbidden

It seems for reasons unknown,

She steals hearts singing sonnets and inviting crowds with her hips.

She curtsies and plagues rhythms of amusing beats,

To write strands of her story on the pavement.

In her hours of incessant playing,

She compiles the forbidden art of drumming,

Leaving behind memories of cold sake and sweet nothingness.

Remembering Love.

I call to you lovely, to open to me now.

Open to show me that

When I FEEL, my heart opens.

When I FEEL,  I FEEL love.

And when I feel love, my heart remembers,

To never abandon,

My old sketches,

That have so easily become,

Worn,

And distressed,

Pages of the past.

Sixteen Verses

Curiosity cultivates the soul, and the scent of sake perfumes me.

My lips mirror memories.   But they can’t speak the words because my mind is lacquered with too many thoughts.

The first minutes that love first betook a jealousy, it kept me from knowing my own true heart.  This love was staged between intoxicating rhythms and beats of decadence, like a set of instruments, so beautiful.

Seducing me to seek them out, for the sake of my soul.

Sixteen verses placed inside the little girl, opens to consciousness.

While the beauty awakes these curves and the suspense of sick love unfolds.

Hence,

The story,

Of how true love became.

Love, A Delicate Craft

A craft,

Sitting unique

Spins.

Like fingertips entwined with thread.

The delicate nature

Of thread

Unravels,

Slowly,

Disappearing.

This craft,

Weeping,

Leaves traces of kisses

Behind,

In hopes of restoring

All,

That has been lost,

In true love.

The Creative

Amor unnum (One True Love)

The adoration of my soul is what  makes me write.

It tempts and teases.

It bades me welcome,

Longing,

So sweet it is.

My heart,

Quite impatient,

Stirs.

Falling victim to love.

I whisper my affections

Asking

This beloved  soul,

And  true love,

For an invitation,

To kiss,

Me.

———————

Curiosity and the Black Skirt

Just as the city stirs and I feel my lips start to crack,

The seduction of your scent makes my heart soften.

As the infliction of the sharp wind,

Strikes and slaps against my cheek,

I struggle with this newness.

That shortens my breath.

I’m not used to such things.

Like the length of my black skirt.

Crinkled now,

My skirt doesn’t allow a sin,

Of such thoughts.

But this scent of yours,

I can’t place,

It makes me curious,

To know so much more.

————————————————-

Unlaced Thoughts

Why I must ask, I don’t know.

But it just seems a series of unanswered questions I have about the way you looked at me.

You tried to unlace my thoughts with your eyes,

When I looked away.

But I knew what you were thinking and it made me laugh.

You made me

Glossy-eyed

Enough to grab,

And scratch

At the pages.

Asking me to draw on these walls,

What your eyes

Spoke to me that night.

But,

I found it unfashionable,

Deciding to paste,

It, as just a memory.

—————————————————-

The Beauty of Curves

Hips are so romantic.

Inviting some might say.

Softly, slowly swaying,

Beauty.

Like the immeasurable beat of affections I feel

For my devotion to love.

I see the beauty of their curves reflecting

Images I can’t stop thinking about.

Where every hot minute burns,

Begging me to marry my thoughts.

—————————————–

The Way of the Wise

The decadence of where beauty lies,

Is where song notes play rhythms that make my eyes tear.

I can’t remember the last time I let go.

Seems weak you know.

But I tell myself it’s okay,

See what happens.

I’ve found re-learning these complexities in itself is a challenge,

Especially when it is all you know.

At least,

That’s what  I used to think,

Until,

I woke up.

———————————–

Liquid Poetry

Liquid Poetry

My skin still feels wet with henna,

Like it will never dry.

I see the black of night wrap around and caress my hair then fade away.

While I obess over this passion to decorate.

What a love it is to paint with curiosity,

Just like writing.

When I see the words flow and they move me,

It is an adoration like no other,

It seduces,

And it’s expression is a passion,

That takes my breath away…

The Art of Seeing

When I wake, and pull up my hair,

I see gold.

It’s no wonder the wind broke so fast and the cold came so quick.

I spoke,

Asking what I am to write,

But I can’t quite see clearly.

The room fills with gold flecks,

That flicker and keep blinding me.

Here I am left again,

Scribbling what seems to be nonsense,

But no,

Something more interesting.

It is my own heart,

That wants to spill

Messages on paper.

Obessively now.

To move me.

I wonder why,

It took so long

For a love

Of this kind,

To find me,

Once again.

Marking a Woman’s Soul

Marking a Woman’s Soul

 I dreamt last night.

Remembering the night I sat at the bar on Silom Road,

Watching the girls with their delicate fingertips making gestures to dance.

I look away, for a sign.

Sipping sweet Singha, my lashes pick up the smoke and dance with the music of bar.

I think my lashes are scented now, so I pick up my jacket to leave.

I feel someone graze a hand past my lower back.

He winks, and his glance deepens.

Everything goes black.

Then,

My heart skipping beats turns to follow him,

Skipping,

Skipping,

I’m sweating and I can’t see straight.

My mouth goes dry.

I stand to adjust my skirt,

Now drenched from my sweat,

And turn to realize,

That,

It was love.

I remember,

That feeling,

So real.

Fleeting by.

My Dearest Thoughts

I stop when I hear you stutter,

Then create beats.

It’s time this secret unfolds again,

Because I keep asking it to speak to me.

Whispers have become conversations that plague every minute,

And my fingers can’t find the time to keep up.

Spiritually spitting rhymes,

Has become an obsession.

White hot,

Nevertheless.

It’s dripping a mess down my back,

Making me forget where I am for a minute.