Dead Loss

start off as a ripe lemon
to be slow-molded into energy –
dead loss becoming control.

Belonging

I’ve travelled across countries
Looking for the warmth and belonging
I’ve always had within myself.

Leave your trail
Imprint your name
Form a reign
You will prevail

I have a way with words:
They guide me
Wherever my eyes are blinded
By the despairing mess.

Skin soaked in syllables
I truly believe in,
My actions speak as loud
as my gentle breathing.

Grab me by my curves
Set them into motion
Sense my poise give in
Trade it with exposure

I’d wait some more
To feel that rush
I’d trade my soul
To see you blush

I learned to hate
Before I could love myself
First, all that is skin
And then, the noise within.

The undeniable beauty
of our weary bodies;
Breaths perfectly
contemporized
in soft silence.

(My first erotic micropoem.)

Oh, those Tuscan hills
And its cared-for fields;
Perfect geometries;
The scent of fermentation.