Wounds of the past are portals to the future.
I wanna DJ a night that’ll make lonely lovers slow dance in deep burgundy corners, velvet pockets of melting. A night where nothing exists but the spaces between breathing sounds and a sensuous glance. Where slow means undulating sine waves of stares that render desires bare. The entire night; slow dancing to slow jams that liquefy boundaries between skin and slipping. Is there a night like that? A club space like that? …we should get one poppin’ New Orleans. Just thinking out loud…
I miss kissing. Really kissing. Time-bending kisses. Finding my self in a molten puddle of aching desire kissing. Getting lost in an ether kissing. Sound, taste, sight, touch melt into a single sensation kissing. Kissing in vibrations. I miss kissing. Not sex….just kissing
Haiku for Alexis
We find salvation
In spaces between cupped palms
over bleeding hearts
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…and what wouldn’t I do to be next to you, kissing your eyelids quietly, tracing your lips as you sleep, weaving silk threads into your dreams?
Bleh.
People get angry and frustrated when they can’t figure you out. People don’t like to feel confused. So they confuse themselves into thinking you, the quirky one, are the one that’s confused. Know this: You are not responsible for their lacking dimensions in reasoning. You are not a puzzle to be figured out and made sense of. You are a person. Your pieces are not to be jammed together until the picture makes sense to someone who can’t even think independently. Your gorgeously fragmented pieces are to be left perfect where they are and loved for the pictures in between
-Sapph Ciph
When rain kiss concrete, the earth always shifts 💔🌱
Eating your heart
Are we zombies
On the brink of humanity
Or
Is it that we’re human
On the brink of a voracious death
Full, never satiated
I say this not in sadism
Or morbidity…
I say this to speak of
The animus of love
Marigny, NOLA
We see. brand new mistakes.